Second Chance
by Shadowz
Summary: The Powers That Be send Angel to meet the new Slayer, but when he gets there, he finds that no introductions are needed...NOW COMPLETE
1. The Slayer

A/N:Did you read my fic "The Diary of Grace McCormack"? I'm just sayin', this will perhaps make   
more sense 2 u then. Basically (if you haven't/don't want to/can't be bothered to read my fic   
**shame on you!!!**), Grace was Angel(us)'s sixteen year old sister who wrote a diary of the   
effects her newly vamped brother threw upon her family. Eventually, she was lured away by Angelus   
and her body found just outside Galway the next dawn. There are/will be quite a few references to   
this, so that's all I wanna say. Thank you.   
Disclaimer:**Sigh** What do you think? I wouldn't be the owner of just 67p and one stripey sock   
if I was Joss Whedon and owned Buffy. I do own a few characters though, I think you'll know who   
they are. ;-)   
A/N2:I haven't seen many episodes of Buffy and none of Angel, so please bear with me! And this   
is set in 2008.   
Dedicated to: Stormz, who is just starting out on this site!   
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Angel moved silently and swiftly through the graveyard, his dark eyes searching the place   
over and over again.   
The Powers That Be had informed him just two days ago that a new Slayer would be arriving   
in Sunnydale, and that he had to go to her. He didn't know why. The Powers didn't explain, just   
ordered.   
Had it really been eighteen months since Buffy had died for another time round? They   
hadn't been able to bring her back this time, and so Faith was the sole Slayer, having gotton   
out of prison about a month before and proving that she had switched back to the side of good.   
Then Faith had been killed in a battle, just three months before Angel stood in the cemetary on   
this very dark and moonless night.   
Why was he needed? The girl had known she was the Slayer for three months, and she   
probably had a Watcher. The idea made him grimace. Not all Watchers were like Giles; not all   
Watchers cared about the welfare of their Chosen Ones. The Watchers Council was just as bad. A   
stubborn, unmoving group of old guys who wouldn't see any side to the argument but their own.   
Already he feared for this girl, this teenager he didn't even know.   
Suddenly he saw her.   
A dark figure creeping through the headstones towards the crypt Angel stood by. Inside he   
could hear a raucous gathering of vamps, and he knew the girl did too. He hid in the shadows as   
she came near. It wasn't time for her to see him.   
She sensed him though. She could feel his eyes watching her every move, and she looked up   
at him, even though he was hidden, frowning in concentration. Then she gave up and peered through   
a gap in the door at the enemy. Angel stepped out and had a look too, but made sure he was still   
hidden from the Slayer.   
A wave of odd familiarity swept over him...   
The Slayer hesitated. Then she swept open the door and entered, drawing a stake out from   
behind her back.   
"Party's over guys," she sneered. "Mind if I crash?"   
Angel watched as a vampire jumped up and snarled, his vampiric features taking over the   
face of a high school footballer.   
"Who're you, little girl?" he demanded. He rushed forward at her...   
Her hand swept down and the stake plunged into his chest. The vamp gave a startled yell   
as he crumbled into dust.   
"Obviously you were a newbie. And I'm no little girl." The Slayer adressed the pile of   
ash by her boot. "I'm Gracia Elizabeth McCormick. But you can call me the Slayer."   
This announcement was greeted with growls, cries of anger, and a lot of transforming   
faces. Angel was temporarily stunned, but then realised what was going on. Most of the vamps   
rushed to tackle her, but she catapulted over their heads into the middle of the crypt.   
That's my cue, Angel thought. He came out of the shadows now and threw a glass bottle at   
the doorframe above the front vamps. It shattered and the clear liquid inside srayed heavily over   
them. The vampires screamed as the holy water burned them seriously. Using this as a distraction,   
Angel managed to stake three and get inside.   
The young Slayer was dodging blows from a vamp girl with a thick mask of cosmetics and   
returning each attempted punch with a sharp kick in the shins or stomach. The vamp grabbed her   
roughly by the throat and grinned ghoulishly.   
"I always wanted to kill a Slayer!" she exclaimed as she slammed the girl against the   
crypt wall. Angel tried to get to her but found himself surrounded by more vamps.   
The Slayer choked out something incoherent and the vamp girl stupidly loosened her grip   
as she asked, "What was that, Slayer?"   
"I said, 'Not today, sweetie'." The girl called Gracia shoved hard against the vamp girl,   
freeing herself and sending her nemises sprawling to the floor. Before the vamp could rise, she   
was dust.   
Without even a pause for breath, Gracia had flick-flacked over and was helping Angel to   
pummel and stake the vamps. As a team, they made short work of the party and soon stood alone in   
the empty crypt.   
The girl was staring at the floor as she tenderly felt a wound across her left forearm. Angel   
crossed over to her.   
"Are you going to be OK?" he asked warily.   
"Sure," She looked up at him suddenly, her dark brown eyes blazing. "Vampire."   
Angel couldn't strike out at her, he just couldn't. Even though she was advancing on him   
with a very sharp stake and an expression of murder. He took a step back for every one she took   
forward, but eventually he was up against the wall. Gracia closed the final gap and brought the   
stake up swiftly, ready to plunge into his heart.   
Then she froze.   
He scanned her face, the one he suddenly knew so well. The long plait of dark brown hair,   
the large dark brown eyes, the pretty features of her pale face. The face he hadn't seen for 255   
years and had never thought to see again apart from the nightmares of his past that haunted him   
all the time. One of the faces he had longed to see so badly.   
The expression of her face mirrored his own. Her lower lip quivered slightly as her hand   
shook and the stake fell from her grasp. It clattered to the cracked stone floor and rolled away   
across the room, coming to rest beside the tomb. Her arm dropped to her side and her mouth opened   
to speak.   
"Hello, brother Liam."   
Angel replied. "Hello, sister Gracey."   
  
Dun dun duuuuuuuunnnnn....yes, crummy cliffhanger I know, but if you review I'll write   
the next chapter up soon and post it! Thank you!


	2. Deja vu and serious realisations

A/N: Again, read my story "The Diary of Grace McCormack" to tie up any loose ends of stuff you don't understand. I don't want a load of reviews saying "Huh? What? I don't get this, I'm going to flame you now to high hell". If you do do that, I'll set Fangz on you. OK then.  
Disclaimer: What? I'm not doing this @~*^%! pile of $%@^**?!!! Yes, this stupid pile of writing. Why, what else did you think I said? ;-P You know what I own, all the rest belongs to Joss Whedon and Sky One/Channel Two.  
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The Bronze wasn't exactly the best place to go to talk about incidents, but at least the backround noise was a good cover-up for the weird conversation they were about to have. And it wasn't as if there was anywhere else to go.  
Angel watched Gracia from across the table as she twisted the bracelet on her wrist nervously. The silence between the two was ever growing, and he knew he had to kill it off first.  
"So. Gracey. Tell me about yourself."  
She glanced up and laughed, in a slightly chilling way. "What is there to tell?" she asked. "You know it all already."  
Angel knew what he was about to say made perfect sense, but then again, it was ridiculous. Eventually he managed to choke out, "You're my sister, aren't you?"  
The girl paused, then nodded slowly. "Yes. I'm your sister reincarnated."  
"How much do you...how much do you remember?"  
"Everything. I know that my old name- my real name- was Grace Eliza McCormack and that we lived in Galway in the eighteenth century with our parents and three younger siblings, two girls and a boy. I can remember their names, the names of friends, and..." She trailed off for a moment, wondering how to word it. She decided for the direct approach. "And how they, we, died."  
Angel stared shamefully down at the table. Gracia folded her hand on top of his and he looked up into her dark eyes.  
"It wasn't your fault," she said clearly. "You lost your soul, your identity. How did you get it back anyway?"  
He told her of the gypsy curse that had brought back his tortured soul a hundred and ten years ago. She listened intently and seriously to every word. Then he realised something.  
"Your parents. Are they..." Hope surged through his veins. If he had found his sister, maybe his family would be just down the line.  
She shook her head sadly. "No. I'm sorry. I'm adopted. Social Services refuse to hand out any information like that 'till the child's eighteen. All I know is that my parents are dead and that I was found alone in the streets of Ireland as a baby."  
Angel's head hung miserably. Never had he felt so upset and disappointed, even when he had regained his soul and remembered his countless innocent victims.   
"Cheer up a bit," Gracia said. "At least you don't have to adjust that much to a new me."  
"What do you mean?" Again he looked up at her. She shrugged.  
"Well, even my name's the same, give or take a few letters. I look the same, breath the same, my accent's still Irish for the time being, and my attitude's still the same. All in all, I'm identical to the last time you saw me." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile back a bit. At least she was here.  
Angel stared around the Bronze, thinking. It seemed just yesterday when he used to come here with Buffy and the Scoobies. Now she was dead, and the group scattered. Less than ten years after they used to come in here on dates, she lay cold in her grave, with The Powers that Be fighting off any ressurrection. Willow and Tara had moved to Boston. Xander and Anya had married and moved to New York. Giles lived in England. Dawn was at university. The only one left in Sunnydale was Spike, not that anyone saw much of him. Since he saw Buffy die for the last time, he had become mainly reclusive.  
"How come you're here, sister?"  
She shrugged again. "Dunno. I was adopted at five by the McCormicks, we lived in Belfast 'till we moved to Washington D.C. a month ago. Three days ago, my parents' job opportunities meant we had to come here." She paused for a moment, then continued. "D'you know, I've always known that I lived before. Even when I was at the children's home. I used to sit at the window and when people asked me why I was there, I said that my big brother was coming to find me. They didn't think anything of it, a lot of kids were like that there. They always say stuff like, 'Oh, my dad's gonna take me back today, you see'. Then they're not even disappointedd when it doesn't happen, 'cause they know it won't. But I was. I always thought you'd come for me, and I was half-way between happy about it and scared. But then I grew up and realised you didn't know I was around. How about you?"  
"The Powers That Be told me to come to greet the new Slayer. Guess they knew who you were."  
"Of course they did. Big, scary powers, they gotta know who their Slayer is." Gracia told him. They both laughed slightly, then silence came back. They just looked at each other, too happy at meeting at last to say anything.  
Presently, Angel took a box out of his pocket and pushed it across the table towards her. She raised an eyebrow quizzicaly.  
"Open it." He said softly. She reached out, pulled it towards her, and opened it slowly. When she saw what was inside, her eyes widened and she gasped slightly-  
As she brought out a silver crucifix on a cord-like silver chain.  
"Liam..."  
The sound of his original name made him wince. It brought back painful memories of Galway, especially of his last night of life. When he had argued with his father and left...to later be killed and sired by Darla.  
"Angel. Call me Angel."  
"Sorry. Angel. Thank you so much." Gracia said as she put it round her neck. "Why'd you give it to me?"  
He took a couple of breaths as a comfort thing to calm himself down before starting on the answer. "It belonged to another Slayer. Three before you. Her name was Buffy."  
Gracia understood the look of pain in his eyes and nodded understandingly. "You two had history together." It was a statement, not a question, and he nodded.  
"Yes. She was supposed to be the strongest Slayer ever. Then she died, killed in battle. Suppose she'd been too strong for too long. Finally met her match. And we couldn't bring her back, the Powers forbade it." He got choked up here, remembering Buffy. Gracia understood.  
"You don't have to tell me if it's too painful." she murmured.  
"That's OK." he said. "I'm fine. Anyway, when she died, the Slayer called Faith-the one before you- attempted to go after the demon that had killed her. She eventually found it and was killed in battle. But she took the demon with her in death. Then you were called."  
Gracia nodded, then glanced at her watch. She swore loudly and jumped up. "Damn, I have to go back. Mum'll have a fit if I'm not back soon."  
Angel stood up as well. "Gracey, when do I get to see you again?"  
She smiled slightly. "Some time. Around, I guess." She hugged him in a sisterly fashion, but pulled away quickly when he started to burn. "Oops, sorry, I forgot about the cross."  
Through his pain, he smiled back. "Don't worry. You'd better go."  
"Sure. It was great to see you, brother." She considered for a second. "Wether you're Liam or Angel."  
With that, she left quickly, leaving Angel deep in thought about the dark past.  
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This was dedicated to all those who reviewed Grace's diary. Thank you so much for praising it although I got it wrong and thought his original name was Angelus and not Liam. Please forgive me, 'cause I haven't seen any Angel episodes and not that many Buffy ones...I really need to do that don't I? You can't see me now, but I'm cursing my stupidness. Thank you so much anyways, I truly appreciate it! Oh, and about Angel's sister being called Kathleen...that is sorted out. I made up more than one sister for him. This one, one called Phyllis, and one called Kathleen. Kathleen was named after their mother, and cause that would be confusing, she was called Jane as that was her middle name. See?  
Now review, or face my mafia mob! ;-) Just kiddin'. You reckon. 


	3. School and new starts.

Again, dedicated to my reviewers **sniff** what would I do without ya? Probably get closer to a sane life...aw, come on, I'm only kidding. Anywhoozle, there is a bit of a flash-back thingy at the beginning of this so...just to clear up any possible confusion. And if you ARE as confused as hell cuz ya skipped this note TOUGH LUCK ON YOU! Yeah, that's all really, thanx.  
Disclaimer: You think I'm Joss Whedon and that I own Buffy etc.? COOL! Then let Reilly die cruel, painful and twisted deaths every episode and Dru and the Chaos demon come back! (I'm sure some of you will agree!)  
Hey, WeaponX! If you read the second chapter, you'll find out that both Faith and Buffy are now dead. So no more reviews about my terrible continuity, 'kay?   
OK, now I'm just playing for time. Saturday night, caffeine, and watching Buffy vids really do NOT mix too good. You have been warned! ;-D  
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"How can you treat your family like this? How can you grind your family's honour and reputation into the dirt like this?"  
Liam turned rapidly to face his angry father. The stupid fool was seething, his old face dark red with rage and his voice very loud. Over his shoulder, Liam saw his mother sitting silently in her chair, pale as she watched the unfolding drama fearfully. Her sewing lay forgotten in her lap.  
"You spend our money gambling and drinking! And do you work like me? No- you think your time is better spent with harlots and your scum-of-the-earth friends!" he yelled. Liam glanced over to the fireplace. His sisters, Grace, Phyllis, and Kathleen (nicknamed Jane) had abandoned their game and were staring up at the men. His brother Patrick was also watching from his seat by the table.  
Grace raised an eyebrow at him in a serious look he interpreted correctly as, "Listen and pay heed brother." He ignored her and glared back at his father.  
"I see no reason why what I do should concern you." he told him coldly. "Whether it be gambling or drinking or talking to who I like. I am a man now, not a child who needs protection." He looked quickly back over at his young siblings, knowing that they were the ones needing protection. Phyllis seemed scared of the outbursts and was sucking her thumb whilst clinging pitifully to Grace. Patrick had moved over to her as well. Jane continued to look at him, her dark eyes doleful.  
"Then act like one!" Mr. McCormack thundered, spittle flying from his mouth. "Act like the man you claim to be rather than a spoilt brat leeching off of his family's well-being!"  
Ringing, deadly silence followed this yell. The air was tense with bated breath from each family member. Liam scowled at his father, sorely tempted to backhand him. He thought better of it, although the internal struggle of will and sense was fierce.  
"I'm leaving," Liam said slowly and quietly. "Now."  
He turned and stormed from the room. He pushed the door roughly open, stepped out into the dark streets of a Galway night, and slammed it behind him. The noise sounded like a volcanic eruption in the complete hush of the room.  
Mr.McCormack growled, "That boy is out of the house forever by dawn." He stormed off to the back rooms, closely followed by his wife, pleading once again for patience and impossible lengths of understanding with their callow son.   
In the front room, the children sat completely still. Eventually, Jane got up and began to toddle towards the door, in all the innocence of the sweet three-year-old she was.  
"Where is my angel going?" she lisped, obviously intent on following her canonized (in her sight at least) brother whichever dank tavern he was set for tonight.  
Grace got up hurriedly and swept the girl up into her arms, dark eyes staring at the door. Rocking her soothingly, she whispered, "He's not your angel any longer."  
She did not know that in just over a week's time, she herself would be finding those six small words hard to believe even as her brother drained the blood from her body, from the very last of his relatives.  
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Gracia had already decided what she would wear for her first day at Sunnydale High School, and so it didn't take her long to get ready on that bright morning. When she came down for breakfast at 8 a.m., she was wearing a strappy white top, bootlegged jeans made from faded denim, and the pointed black boots she had been wearing last night. Also, she wore the silver crucifix Angel had given her and her dark hair was tied back neatly into a French plait.  
Mrs. McCormick, her adoptive mother, was busy in the kitchen making toast and coffee. She was wearing an old baggy shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an even older pair of leggings. Both items of clothing were paint stained, as she had yesterday begun on re-decorating most of the house. At the moment, cans of paint of every colour lined a spare work surface in the room.  
"Hi honey," she said, smiling at her as she tied back her dirty-blonde hair with an old scrunchie. "Looking forward to a new school?"  
Gracia smiled slightly. "Sure thing. And whilst I'm looking forward to a new school, I'll just collect that cheque for a million pounds."  
"You'll be fine," her mother assured her. "Don't worry about it."  
"It's dollars now, not pounds. Get your facts right, this is America, not the U.K." said the girl who just entered the room. Brianna was eleven, and Gracia's sister. The dirty blonde hair she had gained from her mother was cut in a short, ragged style around her face and her blue eyes shone brightly. Trotting by her heels was the puppy she had been given when they first arrived in the country, a Doberman called Scrappy.  
Gracia smiled wider and shrugged. "I didn't notice."  
Brianna sat down and picked up a piece of toast without looking at it. "Good luck at school. I don't start 'till tomorrow!" Triumphantly, she bit into the toast and almost instantly pulled a face as she spat out a soggy mouthful of chewed up food. "Eurgh. Marmite." She passed the morsel onto the dog, who instantly began tearing it apart and smearing marmite and margarine all over the newly cleaned floor.  
"Brianna!" Mrs. McCormick scolded. "How many times do I have to tell you not to feed that dog at the table?"  
"Many, many times before the message homes in on her brain." Gracia said as she took a sip of coffee. Brianna pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at the older girl, earning a, "Brianna! Stop that!"  
"He's not up the table Mum, he's under it." she protested. Gracia's smile became a grin.   
"Fifteen-love." she remarked. Her father came in at that point, ready for work. He laughed at the chaotic scene unfolding.  
"Come on Gracia, I'll give you a lift to school if you're quick," he said. "I'll drop you off on my way to work."  
"Consider it done." Gracia went out into the hall where her sky-blue jacket and white shoulder bag were waiting for her departure. Mr. McCormick followed her into the room after saying goodbye to his wife and daughter. "Let's go."  
*****  
The new Sunnydale High was built on the exact same site as the old one. Once the debris had been cleared from the aftermath of Class of '99's graduation, the council had decided to rebuild the school in an almost identical fashion, but larger and with several features that were more modern and eficient, such as more computer facilities. By the time Gracia stepped out of her dad's car and onto the pavement outside the sprawling building, the area was alive with masses of teenagers intent on 'feeding and mating' (to quote the now deceased Principal Snyder) rather than their classes.  
Trying desperately to hide her nervousness, she clutched her bag strap and started to make her way through the jostling groups up the wide steps and across the lawn. She glanced curiously around, taking in sights and making mental notes and first impressions. Nobody paid her any attention-after all, she was just another face in the crowd even if they'd never seen her before. But when she pushed open the large glass doors that were the entrance and stepped into a bustling corridor, she was almost knocked over by a man who greeted her.  
"Are you Gracia McCormick?" he asked. He was a short middle-aged guy with sparse greying hair, with a harassed expression. Startled by this hurried introduction, she couldn't answer immediately.  
"Er-yeah. Yeah, that's me," she eventually managed to reply. "Why?"  
I can't be in trouble already, can I? she thought.  
The man began to direct along the corridors until they reached a door with 'PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE' emblazoned on the frosted glass. He directed her in and they sat in chairs on oposite sides of the desk.  
"I am Principal Walker, and let me be the first to welcome you to a new start at Sunnydale High School," he said hurriedly, bringing out what she recognised as her permanent record. He opened it and began to look through all of her papers, all the while talking. She wasn't listening but caught the occasional phrase such as 'we know you'll fit right in' and 'just ask if you're not sure of anything'. Typical headteacher speech for the new student. She answered neutrally when she had to, more intent on what the reports said about her. He was now checking a reference from Belfast Central Secondary Modern, the school she had attended in Ireland.  
"Oh...oh, dear." Principal Walker suddenly said. Gracia raised her eyebrows slightly.  
"What's the matter?" she asked, dreading the reply. If it said anything about her battling half the night with vampires affecting test scores, she would have to think up an explanation quickly.  
"It says here that you appeared not to put much effort into your work for about the last two months of your school year there." He shot her a quizzical glance. "Now why was that, hmm?"  
What was she going to say, 'I was out saving the world from blood-sucking demons'? Not likely.  
"Well, you know, what with the strain of emmigrating, my help was needed especially around the house with packing and stuff. But we're not moving again soon, so I can concentrate on my studies." Silently she added, "If the demons don't trouble me too much."  
It was the typical 'I-will-try-harder' new student reply to targets set, but Walker seemed to be buying it. At least, that was what she hoped his new expression meant. That, and the fact it possibly didn't metion the fact she had gotten into a huge fight on the last day.  
"Very well, you'd better get along to class," he said. "Wouldn't want to be late on your first day, would you?"  
With the forced laugh that tells teachers you appreciate their lame jokes, she stood up. Then she remembered something else.  
"Where is my first class?"  
*****  
Gracia's first class was English and the lesson was five minutes underway when she found the room. The teacher, a friendly dark-skinned woman in her fifties, welcomed her and told her to find a seat. The only one left was in the middle of the room, and she took it.   
As the lesson started up again, the girl on her right leaned over.She was thin and fairly short, dressed in a long-sleeved stripey top and tie-dye trousers, all in red-like colours. Her hair was long and reddish-brown, swept up into a high ponytail on top of her head, and large golden hoops were strung through her ears.  
"Hey. You're new?" she asked. Gracia nodded.  
"My name's Gracia. What's yours?"  
"I'm Keisha. There's usually my twin brother too, but I think he's skipping this class. He can't stand English. So, where'd you move from?"  
"Washington D.C. But I come from Belfast in Ireland really."  
"Cool. I've never lived anywhere but here, and god does it suck after a few years."  
Gracia laughed. At least someone was acknowledging her presence and trying to be friendly. "So what's it like here?"  
She shrugged. "From my point of view, it's dreadful. But then I'm considered a freak by all, so I don't know whether my opinion counts for anything. You have all your usual divisions-the 'in' crowd and the outcasts, so it just depends where you want to be accepted."  
"That's certainly a cheering view," Gracia commented wryly. "But I'm sure I'll slot in somewhere."  
Their discussion continued brokenly throughout the lesson, and it was with Keisha that Gracia went out of the class with when the bell rang. Chatting, they walked along to Keisha's locker, as she had to unload some books. Leaning against the rows of green metal doors was a tall guy with blonde hair, who looked up and grinned as they came to a halt.  
"Hey Keisha, hey person-I-don't-yet-know-the-name-of," he said cheerfully. "What did I miss in English?"  
"A hell of a load of work." Keisha replied. "Shift."  
He moved so that she could open her locker, and stood facing Gracia, staring at her with turquoise eyes identical to his sister's. She smiled in a slightly shy manner.  
"Hi. I'm Gracia, and I'm new here," she told him.   
"I'm Luke." he replied   
"And a pain." Keisha said from the depths of her locker. She eventually emerged with some fur-covered notebooks. "Come on, we have Biology next and that's on the other side of the school."  
Gracia soon found out that Luke and Keisha were really easy to get on with and by the end of the science class she felt like she'd known them for ages. She left them briefly and was just getting a drink from a corridor water fountain when she heard a scathing voice above her.  
"Is it me, or are these freaks multiplying?"  
She looked up slowly and found herself being stared at by four cheerleader-types, the ringleader being an icy brunette with a haughty expression and a cold stare.  
"What do you want?" Gracia asked in identical unfriendliness as she drew herself up to her full height, just a few inches smaller than the tall brown-haired girl. Her dark eyes met those of her enemy's in a hard look.  
"You get out of our way now, freak." the brunette sneered. Gracia raised an eyebrow and laughed slightly.   
"Whatever. Like I'd want to be around you lot for long anyway. Your limited vocabulary may start to affect me" she replied in an equally scathing voice as she pushed past them. She rounded the corner and found Luke and Keisha there, having listened to the conversation.  
"Ah, so you too have felt the full extent of Bridget's friendliness," Luke said, pulling a face. "You're now officially one of us."  
"Great." Gracia smiled. "I want to be one of you lot, rather than shoved in that tarty little clique."  
The trio all laughed, and then Keisha spoke up.  
"Hey, d'you want to come to the local club with us tonight? The band that's playing is pretty cool."  
"I can probably come. Where is it?"  
"It's on the other side of town. It's called the Bronze..." Before she could launch into a detailed list of directions, Gracia felt a flash of remembrance.  
"I know where that is," she interrupted. "I went there last night."  
The twins gave her a questioning look and Luke asked, "I thought you were new?"  
"I, um, went there when I was looking around town last night. I met up with someone," she explained.  
Luke was still confused about her knowing anyone. "Again, I thought you were the new girl?"  
"Let's just say I know him from before." Literally, she added mentally, thinking of how much her brother had altered since she knew him first.  
"Anyway, where shall I meet you? At the club?" she continued, desperately wanting to distract them from a possible slip-up on her real life. Within three seconds, she was chatting away like any normal teenager, and not a vampire Slayer who was worrying about her demon brother.  
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When Brianna opened the door of her sister's bedroom to ask to borrow something, she immediately jumped back at the sight. Her sister had managed to empty the entire contents of her wardrobe onto her bed, searching for a decent outfit to wear out.   
At the moment, she was doing her make-up at the desk. She was dressed in tight black trousers, a long-sleeved form fitting black top, and high black shoes. When she saw the blonde girl staring from the reflection in her mirror at her she raised an eyebrow.  
"What, Brianna? You've seen Scrappy mauling some poor helpless person and realise how bad he is?" she asked sarcastically. Brianna scowled slightly then replied, "Since when did you care so much about your appearance?"  
"We aren't all tomboys, Brianna," Gracia said hurriedly, screwing the top back on her mascara tube and blinking experimentally. "Some people do actually want to look nice."  
"Does Mum know you're going out?" Brianna demanded, coming in and perching on the bed. Picking up her hairbrush from where it lay on the make-up table, Gracia pulled out the fastenings of her plait and brushed it out until it began to crackle statically.   
"Of course. Oh sorry, did you want to get me grounded? Maybe next time." She wound her hair back into a simple tidy knot against her neck and tied it in place with a black hairband.  
Brianna meanwhile was watching her reflection. "Hey, Gracia?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Where'd you get that necklace from? I've never seen you wearing it before."  
Gracia thought up something quickly. "Oh, they gave it to me when I left Belfast Secondary. I lost it for a while and only found it last night. Decided it might be a good luck charm." She turned to her sister. "How do I look?"  
"Like an old black and white cartoon." Brianna got up. "I'm going."  
"Thank you for that charming view," Gracia called after her. She picked up a black jacket from the bed and left quickly. Then she returned and slipped two stakes into her jacket pocket.  
'Cause I should be on duty tonight, but what the hey...  
*********************************************************************  
Keisha glanced boredly from the band playing on stage to her brother, who was watching the door without realising what he was doing. She rolled her eyes.  
"Hey Luke, I never realised you found the entrance so fascinating," she said suddenly. He looked around at her and pulled a face when what she had said registered.  
"Whatever, Kiesh." He looked back at the door, deliberately this time.  
Keisha chewed at her almost non-existent nails (a long habit that occurred whenever she was nervous or bored) as she looked at him. Eventually she shook her head and glanced back at the band. There was about a minute's silence between the twins until she spoke again.  
"Gracia's gonna show, y'know." Luke didn't reply to this, and silence dominated once more.  
About a minute and a half later, however, Luke suddenly sat up quickly in his seat and tapped Keisha's arm, almost knocking over her drink. Keisha looked over and raised an eyebrow at her brother's turned head.  
"What?"  
"You're right Keish, she is here."  
Keisha followed Luke's gaze over to the door where Gracia had just come in, the darkness of her clothes a vast contrast to the bright colours most others were wearing.  
Gracia herself was quite daunted by the size of the place, and she glanced around as she moved inwards at the chattering friends, the dancing couples, and the band on the stage. Suddenly she sensed someone blocking her way and stopped, turning her head to face them.  
It was Angel, and she smiled happily, earning a small smile back from him.  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, the smile spreading steadily into a wide grin.  
"I could ask you the same question." he replied quietly. She shrugged and said, "Meeting up with some friends. So how are you?"  
"As always."  
With a small smirk, she answered, "I remember a time when that meant drunk and rowdy."  
Although his expression did not alter and he said nothing, he was pained at the memories of the callow, uncaring Liam he had deserted in Galway more than two centuries ago.  
Noticing the hurt lurking in his eyes, she pulled a face and winced. "Sorry. Didn't think."  
"That's OK," he assured her, desperate to make his sister smile again. He couldn't stand to cause her even more torment than he had already in past lives. "It doesn't matter. Seriously."  
A small smile appeared and she drifted past him towards where her friends sat. He turned and watched her as she glanced back briefly to say, "Come on."  
So he followed her to where two children of her own sixteen years were seated, a brunette girl and a blonde boy, both with blue-green eyes. They smiled at her, and the girl's eyes slid past to look at Angel, her expression something like shyness.  
"Hey Gracia," the boy said, nodding at her. "Glad you could make it."  
"Hi," the girl said, taking her eyes off of Angel and looking at her friend. "What he said."  
"Hey," Gracia replied. "This is Angel. My...friend. Angel, this is Luke and Keisha."  
The twins greeted Angel, and vice versa. An uneasy silence fell over the group, and Gracia glanced from her brother to her new friends, praying for some type of intervention. Luke noticed her expression and spoke up.  
"So, Angel, how'd you know Gracia?" he asked suddenly.  
Angel replied with the first thing that came into his head. "We used to live in the same street back in Ireland, we've known each other for ages."  
Gracia smiled as she realised it was more true than any of them could guess, her tenseness fading. Maybe everything would be fine. Maybe now she had her brother and her friends, she would be able to live as normal a life as a Slayer could.  
Maybe she could.  
Maybe, but she couldn't ignore the fact that this place was obviously overrun with vampires.  
*********************************************************************  
Principal Walker was working late that night, at a time when only he and the caretaker (mopping the corridor floors somewhere else) were in the building. Paperwork was piling on, what with mock exams, new students, and new staff all part of the current high school regime.   
There was a soft knock at the door and his head snapped up from the forms he was filling in.  
"Enter."  
A blonde youngish woman dressed in a smart black suit came in, look slightly questioning and movements showing a bit of shyness. She shut the door behind her and walked forward.  
"Sorry about the lateness of this meeting, but I couldn't come any earlier. My flight landed an hour ago and I'm on my way to my new home. I thought it would be better to see you now rather than delay it until I start my job here." She extended her hand towards the watching man. "Cecelia Rees, librarian."  
He stood up and shook the hand of the woman who spoke with the English accent. "Welcome, Ms. Rees. So glad you put in the effort when you must be exhausted from your journey."  
"Oh really, it's no trouble." A small smile tugged at her lips.  
"Are there any problems as to when you start, or anything like that?"  
She laughed shortly. "Oh no, nothing like that. I just thought I should introduce myself before the day, as packing and all that will probably take me the rest of my time."  
The principal smiled. "Then welcome to Sunnydale High."  
*********************************************************************  
  
Hmm, Keisha and Luke seem a bit too much like Willow and Xander. Bear with me, I'm trying. This is like my second fic for Buffy, so....yeah, just so you know. BTW, as I don't watch Angel (damn T.V. schedules, cutting Angel off the TV), can someone please explain to me what's going on about Darla, etc. Sorry to be so ignorant. Thank you!  
  
-Shady Shadowz 


	4. The Watcher and the danger.

A/N: Must do other work...must avoid computer...must...oh damn, well, here I am anyway, may as well write some flippin' fics! ;-D  
  
Disclaimer:**Counts off on fingers**Gracia is mine, Keisha is mine, Luke is mine, Gracia's family are mine ('cept Angel), Cecelia is mine, various backing characters are mine. Think that's it...yeah. All else is Joss Whedon's, so take all his creation if you wanna.  
  
Dedicated to:FanFreak and willow_ph. Hey FanFreak, sozz this took so long, work etc. is hell and prevents me from writing. Please don't kill me! And willow_ph, thank you for the web adress, I'll check it out.   
*****************************************************************************  
  
"Now class, take out your textbooks and turn to page 97..."  
  
Gracia's brain tuned out on the teacher's droning voice as she wondered what the hell to do. She had no textbooks yet, and, what with settling in and staking vamps every night in between visiting the Bronze, getting her books hadn't been high on her list of priorities.  
  
Keisha slid the Biology textbook, open at the correct page, across to the space between them. Gracia thanked her new friend with a smile that Keisha returned.  
  
"As you can see from the chart," the man continued, prowling along the aisle between the desks, "Living organisms find fats vital for insulating the body, and also as a secondary energy store." He rounded on the two girls. "Miss Goldsmith, please tell the class what carbohydrates are used for in the body."  
  
Keisha's gaze became downcast for a moment before glancing towards Luke, who was sitting at the desk just across from them. The teacher, eyes still fixed on the pupil, stepped sideways to block of eye contact between the twins. Cursing him mentally, she took a quick, almost hidden, look at the textbook. The teacher followed her eyes and surveyed the situation. Each pupil was supposed to have a textbook each for his class- it was one of his many demands, along with neat folders and perfect homework. And then here were two pupils and one textbook. The equation just didn't balance.  
  
"Which of you two forgot the compulsory text book?" he thundered. The girls exchanged a look, then Gracia raised her hand slightly.  
  
"Me, only it wasn't..."  
  
The man cut her off. "This merits a detention. It is simply unacceptable behaviour that you should not bother..."  
  
Gracia interrupted. "I just don't have a textbook yet. If I did, I'd bring it along."  
  
The guy frowned. "Impudence and rudeness, your behaviour continues to decline! I should send you to the principal's office!"  
  
Ignoring sniggers from the airhead patrol at the back of the room, Gracia kept calm, although all she wanted to do was to throw the man out of the window, or seriously maim him otherwise with her Slaying powers.  
  
"I just didn't know where to get them," she said, straining to keep her eyes wide, pleading, and innocent. For a second, he simply glared at her.  
  
"How long have you been here, Miss McCormack?"  
  
Gracia calculated speedily in her head. "Two weeks."  
  
"You should know better and be more organized. After this lesson, go straight to the library to pick up your books. At the beginning of the next lesson, you shall report straight to me to prove that you have put in some effort at last."  
  
With that he walked towards the board, carrying on the lecture and forgetting that Keisha hadn't answered his question.  
  
"Just ignore his insults," Keisha told Gracia as they left the class when the lesson ended.   
  
"Sure," Luke continued sarcastically from behind them. "'Cause he's a really nice guy when you get to know him."  
  
Keisha shot her twin a withering glance. "Nobody asked you, Luke. We've already told you talking is a bad thing for you."  
  
"What, when it means I'm supposed to listen to you in return?"  
  
Gracia laughed at their bickering. Although the pair of them argued more than frequently, anyone could see that they were best friends. And anyway, the constant fights were a source of great entertainment for her, much more fun than the rows she had with Brianna.  
  
By now the trio had left the main body of the crowd behind, with just a few people going to retrieve books from the lockers that lined the corridor wall. Most of the students had gone outside, with the cheerleaders flocking to the toilets to replenish their make-up and the risky few chancing the cafeteria lunch food. The friends carried on, the twins still arguing and Gracia studying the doors. Suddenly she stopped, staring at one door that seemed to have a strange force around it. The twins stopped a short way off and looked back as their friend attempted to peer through the glass. They paced back to her.  
  
"What's up, Gracia?" Luke questioned, also trying to look through the glass to see what had gained her attention. Gracia moved her hand onto the handle ready to twist it down and enter.  
  
"You don't wanna go in there," Keisha blurted out. Gracia looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
A wry smirk twisted Keisha's lips. "That's the ghostie room. The Haunted Store closet. Everyone says there's some ghost or something in it, but it's all made up. Y'know, the typical 'things move theirselves and cold air' rites of passage. You'd think they'd guess that ghosts don't exist."  
  
Gracia laughed as she released her grip on the handle and followed them further down the corridor. But even so, her mind was curious. Whether ghosts actually existed or not, there was an afterlife, so they probably were around.  
  
I mean, I came back, didn't I? she thought.  
  
A bit further on, the twins halted. Luke indicated the door.  
  
"This is it," he told her. "Contact us if you come out alive."  
  
"Aren't you coming in?" she questioned, an eyebrow raised.  
  
"Nah, books scare him too much." Keisha answered. "He's spent more than half his life on the psychiatrist's couch, and still it isn't sorted out."  
  
Luke put on an expression of mock-despair. "I know, it's the bane of my life!"  
  
The girls grinned as he pretended to break down into fits of helpless tears and Keisha shook her head.  
  
"OK, comedian, time out." To Gracia, she said, "We'll meet you outside or in Maths, whatever time it takes. See ya!"  
  
She steered her brother away down the corridor, leaving Gracia laughing in their wake. She managed, after some time, to compose herself enough, and walked into the library.  
  
It was like stepping into another dimension as the door swung shut behind her. Her pace slowed unknowingly as she peered around the strangely quiet and seemingly empty room. Apart from a cluster of computers at the other end of the room, most of the place was filled almost to bursting with shelves full of unused books. Gracia crept along silently, running the fingers of her right hand over the surface of a table whilst the others clutched the strap of her bag.  
  
She hated this. The silence was beginning to become horribly oppressive.  
  
"Hello?" she called softly. "Anyone here?"  
  
"Hello."  
  
Gracia jumped at that English accented voice behind her and whirled around. A tall, thin woman had stepped out from behind some shelves. She was dressed smartly, and a sheet of icy blonde hair fell in slight waves to her shoulders. Her pale grey eyes studied her from behind squarish glasses attached to the silver chain around her neck. As she approached, Gracia thought that her pallid skin was almost as bloodless as a vampires, but smiled in a friendly way, trying to ignore the huge dusty tome in her arms as she approached with a slight frown.  
  
"Hi. I was sent here for textbooks by my teacher. Can you help me please?"  
  
The woman came right up to her and squinted slightly. "Are you new then?"  
  
"Yes. Well sort of. You see-"  
  
Gracia was cut off as the woman made her way to the desk by the near wall. Confused, she watched her set down the book and check something from another book on her desk. She glanced up briefly, an odd look in her eyes.  
  
"Hello, Gracia McCormack."  
  
Gracia was a mixture of confused and freaked out. How did she know her name? At her old school in Belfast, teachers were still struggling with remembering her name out of those of about 900 pupils even after five years. Attempting to calm herself, she replaced the smile on her face that had disappeared. It was probably nothing.  
  
"Wow, people know my name," she joked weakly. The librarian moved towards her again, stopping in front of her, and took the glasses off. Her gaze was all the more scrutinizing like this, and Gracia didn't like it.  
  
Nothing could have prepared her for the blonde's next words.  
  
"So you are the Slayer."   
  
Gracia gasped and stepped back suddenly, almost tripping over the table. "W-what?"  
  
The librarian's expression became disdainful as she looked her up and down. "No need to act so shocked. I expect that you didn't consider it necessary to research your Slayer heritage, or you would have guessed that one of my colleagues or myself would be along soon to train you."  
  
"What do you mean?" Gracia managed to answer eventually.  
  
"You are the Slayer. I am your Watcher. I train you, prepare you for battle, and eventually send you off to it. Surely you should know all of this?"  
  
Gracia distantly remembered someone-perhaps Angel-possibly mentioning something about a Council in conjunction with the Slayer.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Cecelia Rees."  
  
There was silence as Cecelia strode back to the desk and picked up the book. She held it in Gracia's direction, not even looking up. Gracia didn't know what she was supposed to do. The thick, dusty leather covers, the gilded letters spelling out the word 'VAMPYRES' and the yellowed pages showed that it obviously wasn't the Biology textbook she was searching for. Nervously, she tapped her fingernails against the desk. After about thirty seconds, Cecelia looked up.  
  
"Well, take it then, girl," she snapped irritably. "I don't have all day."  
Gracia moved forward and took the book in her arms, almost dropping it at the sudden weight. Cecelia didn't see as she had turned back to the papers on the desk. She sat down on a chair to sort them out, and eventually spoke to the Slayer hovering uncertainly by her desk.  
  
"You are to come here immediately after lessons end for training. I want to see how streamlined you aren't. Then, when it gets dark, you shall go out to patrol and report to me tomorrow morning of how many you slew."  
  
Gracia was dumbstruck at how this woman she hadn't known yet for five minutes suddenly ruled her life and everything she did. She gaped at her for a second before finding her voice.  
  
"But I can't."  
  
Cecelia glared up sternly over her glasses at Gracia. "What was that you told me?"  
  
"I can't. I'm getting a lift from my mum home, I have mountains of homework, and then I'm going out with my friends."  
  
As soon as she said it, she knew that she shouldn't have. Cecelia stood up to her full height, face shining with a kind of emotionless anger. It scared and startled the teenager and her first thought was to get out of there as fast as she could before the Watcher exploded.  
  
But when Cecelia spoke, her voice was low and poisoned with deadly fury. "How dare you."  
  
Gracia's instinct told her to snap back with, 'How dare I what?", but she didn't trust Cecelia's temper or want to test its limits too much. So she remained silent, making her eyes look confused.  
  
"How dare you," Cecelia continued, "Put the fate of the world and people's lives at risk for prior arrangements! Safety of others must come first! And as for these...these friends of yours...few Slayers have ever had friends. It puts those people at risk, something a Slayer must prevent!"  
  
"I'm...I'm sorry..."  
  
"So you should be! I simply can't understand the sheer lack of concern you show. Tell me, what do you find most important? Homework or somebody escaping a possible vampire attack and living?"  
  
"Well...obviously the person living."  
  
"Exactly!" Cecelia's eyes narrowed to impossibly small slits of rage. "Which is why you shall be here at half past three exactly after your final class and not flouncing off home."  
  
Gracia watched in disbelief as her Watcher sat down again, rearranged her glasses carefully, and carried on sorting the papers out. It was obvious that she considered the matter closed. Gracia shifted slightly from foot to foot, awaiting any possibly break in the tense silence, but, upon none arriving after a minute or so, she replied, "I'm very sorry."  
  
With that, she turned and walked out of the room, squeezing the book amongst her folders in her bag. It was only when she stepped out of the room that she realised that nothing she had gone into to look for had been retrieved. But it would take a lot to make her return to the library at that moment, and so she headed for a quiet place where she could phone home to rearrange the schedule.  
  
Because if she had to put up with that stuck-up Cecelia as her mentor, she may as well obey some of what she said. However, as the home phone rang, she wondered if she may be able to go to the Bronze anyway, just more alert for vampires.  
********************************************************************************  
"Where is she?" Keisha snapped irritably, kicking her scuffed trainer against the table leg. Some nearby cheerleaders glared daggers at her as they passed, and she pulled a face at them.  
  
Luke rolled his eyes. "Just think. Two weeks ago, I was saying that. Though my temper was-and always has been-a lot better than yours, Keish."  
Keisha's bad temper caused her to turned her anger on her brother. "Shut it, Luke. You're not funny."  
  
"Wasn't trying to be," he said, frowning at her. "What's up with you?"  
  
"I'm sick of waiting, that's what. Gracia said she'd be here half an hour ago, and she still hasn't turned up. You'd think she'd tell us if she wasn't coming."  
  
Luke shrugged. "Maybe she didn't know. Come of it, she only moved here weeks ago."  
  
Keisha's eyes flicked angrily around the buzzing club. "Her friend Angel isn't even here. He might've known where she was."  
  
Luke grinned. "And you might've wanted to see him for other reasons..."  
  
Keisha's eyes flared, although her cheeks burned bright red. "Say that again, and I'll knock your teeth down your throat."  
  
"And you might've..."  
  
Keisha stood suddenly, almost tipping up the table. "I'm leaving. Don't bother coming."  
  
"Why'd I want to?" Luke asked, but his sister stalked quickly away, barging people out of her way.  
  
Outside, walking down the alleyway, the cool air of the dark night helped to cool Keisha's temper. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself. Honestly, Luke could be such an idiot at...well, all of the time actually. Why did he think she liked Angel in that way?  
  
Keisha answered her own question, and she shook her head with a sigh. It was a bummer having a twin who thought he could read your emotions and thoughts like a book.  
  
Keisha tucked her loose hair behind her ears and carried on, too consumed in her mind to her a very small sound behind her. Too preoccupied to feel a presence behind her. Too busy to know anything until she was grabbed roughly by her arms and slammed into a wall.   
With a small cry she began to slide to the ground, but her shoulders were seized and she found herself yanked upright and head forced slightly sideways. She fearfully gazed up at the face of the burly male atacker who held her in such a tight death grip.  
  
It was hideously unhuman.  
  
Keisha screamed shrilly.  
  
(A/N:Cliffhanger! Oh, alright then...)  
*******************************************************************************   
As Gracia crept silently in the general direction of the nightclub through the empty streets, she was listening to the very quiet footsteps behind her. It made her smile to think that the person behind her was oblivious of her attention, which they had gained since they began following her streets back.   
  
Nearer the Bronze, she whirled around, grinning, to face Angel. He gave her a small smile.  
  
"How long did that take you, Gracey?" he teased playfully.  
  
She raised an eyebrow, having never heard him that tone since...well, since he was Liam. "Oh, not long really. About thirty seconds, then I thought I'd let you reckon you had me tricked. And no jokes about my concentration slacking, I've had enough of people dissing me today."  
  
Angel's smile faded. "Why? What happened?"  
  
Gracia pulled a disgusted face. "I met my Watcher, and let's just say she's not the nicest of people."  
  
Angel was about to question this cause of his sister's unhappiness when a high-pitched scream tore through the area. Gracia gasped and began to run in the direction of it.  
  
Angel followed. "What is it?" he asked.  
  
Gracia's reply was one word long. "Keisha!"  
********************************************************************************  
Keisha whimpered in pure fright as the guy began to lower his needle-like teeth to her neck. She tried to breath, tried to call for help, but it all stuck in her throat. Why didn't anyone come? Heck, she'd even be glad to see Bridget or Luke right now, as long as they got this stranger away.  
  
"Get away from her!"  
  
The man let go of Keisha and she sank weakly to the floor, shaking in mixed terror and relief. She gulped and stared blurrily at the two people standing there, her rescuers. It was Gracia and Angel.  
  
The man snarled, "Make me."  
  
Gracia shrugged in unconcern. "OK then."  
  
He charged at her with a roar, but at the last minute she ducked out of the way. He turned blindly to see her pacing backwards, dark eyes fixed dangerously upon him untilshe was against the opposite wall to which Keisha huddled against. He ran at her again, head down. Keisha shrieked as it looked as though Gracia would end up with a lot of pain in her stomach from the head butt.  
  
Just before he struck, she vaulted over his back, giving him a shove to add to the pain of his head striking the wall. Dazed, he staggered back, clutching his head. This made it all the easier for her to flip him to the ground and pin him there.  
  
"Gracey!"  
  
Gracia glanced briefly up to catch the stake Angel threw for her. She placed it over the vampire's heart as his vision began to unblur. He saw the Slayer, dark hair spilling out of its plait. He saw the petite girl he'd attacked cowering by the wall, eyes wide and riveted. He saw Angelus approaching, Angelus the Scourge of Europe, Angelus the Traitor.  
  
"Betrayer," he hissed. "A lot of us want you in particular dead."  
  
Gracia couldn't stand this. She put all of her weight behind the stake and plunged it into his chest. The vampire had time to let pain flicker over his hideous face before he became a pile of ashes.  
  
She let the stake drop, got up, and ran over to Keisha.  
  
"Are you OK?"   
********************************************************************************  
As he sat listening to the band, Luke suddenly got a terrible feeling. Some sense told him Keisha was in trouble. How he got that feeling, he didn't know, but it was the same one he always had whenever he thought she might come to any harm. It was a bit like the Sixth Sense that twins in movies mostly share.  
  
Why couldn't I have been an only child? he pleaded.  
  
But all the same, he rose and left quickly, fear and apprehension building up as he walked quickly, wondering where his twin was. Then suddenly he heard a raised voice ringing out.  
  
"Gracey!"  
  
It was that of Gracia's friend Angel, the one Luke had teased Keisha about. Now it looked as though both girls may be in trouble. Luke broke into a run, desperately hoping that he was following the direction of the voice.  
  
He turned around a corner and skidded to a sudden halt. His twin had her head in her hand as she leaned shaking against the wall, Gracia was hugging her in a comforting way, and Angel was crouched beside them. Not far off, a large pile of what looked like grey ash was heaped with a sharply pointed wooden stick next to it.  
  
Angel and Gracia looked up and Keisha peered eventually through her fingers at him. He stood there for a second, staring in confusion. There were so many things he wanted, needed, to ask, but they all couldn't fight their way out.  
  
Eventually, he managed to say hoarsely, "What the hell is happening?"  
********************************************************************************  
See, I eventually do get my fics updated. It takes time. Depends when I get work and how much I receive. And on top of that, I'm restricted on the Internet, so I can usually update about once a week if I have nothing else to do.  
  
Anyways, I really like reviews (hint hint). A cookie (::) to all those who obey my wishes! 


	5. Admittance.

A/N:I am TRYING to get this fic up and running a bit quicker honest, but it's hard. Also, did you know this has more chapters (at the time of me writing these words) up than my Harry Potter one...and that was the first one I put up. Grr. Damn writer's block...**goes off searching for products high in sugar content**  
  
**Returns five minutes later with a bag of sugar**  
  
Hello again! Happy now! Veeeerrrryyy happy!!!  
  
Disclaimer:Yadda yadda yadda, its just what I've said for all the other chapters. If you're really that desperate for a disclaimer, go check out those ones again.  
  
Dedication: All of you who gave me website references to discover what's going on in Angel. Much appreciated, thank you. :)   
********************************************************************************  
  
"Are you OK now?" Gracia asked Keisha, leaning slightly to look at her bowed face.  
  
Keisha smiled somewhat ruefully and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, I'll be fine."  
  
Gracia, Angel, Keisha, and Luke were all now, half an hour later, in the library. They had met Cecelia there, and she was now stalking around the room, speaking furiously to herself, her hand tightly grasping a crucifix. To say that she had been completely outraged when Gracia came in supporting a weak Keisha with an ashen-faced Luke and a vampire in tow was the understatement of the millenium. After about ten minutes of constant ranting at the Slayer, Gracia had eventually managed to silence her by shouting back for a good five more minutes.  
  
Luke was sitting next to Keisha, staring at Gracia seriously. He had barely said a word since they had come in, but decided that he had to ask his question again.  
  
"What the hell happened?"   
  
Gracia and Angel shared a glance. They both knew that, for the twins' safety, they would have to tell them the truth. For all they knew, they could be hunted for one reason or another. Gracia opened her mouth to speak and took a deep breath.  
  
"You see-"  
  
Cecelia cut in. Even earlier on, she had not quite reached this level of blind fury. And the Watcher was determined to have her way.  
  
"That's enough!" she hissed. "I will not tolerate your non-existent sense and shabby manners any longer! You have seriously shamed everyone tonight, and endangered these people!"  
  
Angel's temper flared at this. He banged his hand down hard onto the table, almost hard enough to break it, and very nearly vamped out.  
  
Without thinking about what it would mean admitting, he growled, "Don't talk to my sister like that!"  
  
Cecelia swung the wooden cross up until it was facing Angel completely and he winced involuntarily, although he didn't turn away.  
  
"I pay no heed to your sort, Angelus," she replied heatedly. "Whatever nonsense you may have managed to convince people with, about regaining your soul through some curse, I am not fooled! You are still a murderous monster!"  
  
Keisha frowned at the woman. "What? What do you mean 'murderous'?"  
  
Luke held up his hand. "Sorry, I'm lost here." Fixing Gracia with a severely questioning look, he asked, "Sister?"   
  
Gracia groaned and buried her head in her hands, knowing that she was completely and utterly screwed. She took another breath and looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"There's no easy way of saying this, so here goes- vampires are real. They're real, and Sunnydale is overrun with them."  
  
Luke's eyes widened. "So you're saying that..."  
  
She nodded. "The guy who attacked Keisha was a vampire."  
  
"The suck-your-blood type?"  
  
"Know any others?" She shrugged, giving Angel a quick, apologetic glance, which assured him that she wasn't including him. "Every generation there's one girl who has the skill and power to fight them, and this time round that happens to be me."  
  
Angel spoke, turning his eyes away from the cross and to his sister. "And Sunnydale is located on the mouth of Hell, so it makes it the perfect place for them."  
  
"And they just go around killing people in this town?"  
  
"Yes. But not just in this town. All over the world. There were a few particularly nasty ones back in Belfast, but Sunnydale is probably the most affected." Turning to Angel, she asked, "You've lived here longer than me. Is it true?"  
  
Angel nodded. "Yeah."  
  
Suddenly, Keisha slammed her forehead against the table, earning shocked glances from three members of the assembled group and a dirty glare from the fourth (needless to say that the singular person was Cecelia).  
  
"Keish?" Luke asked tentatively. "What is it?"  
  
She looked up, tears beginning to shine in her aqua eyes. "This gets better and better. Think back. Meredith...it must have been..."  
  
What little colour remained in Luke's skin now drained until he looked as white as milk.  
  
"Oh. My. God." he finally managed to whisper. Then he shook his head as though he was trying to rid himself of whatever realisation was dawning. "No, Keisha, it can't be. She'd never..."  
  
"It has to be, Luke. I mean, we never found out what killed her. The marks on her neck were there. And Tanya was never found."  
  
"But...Keisha, Tanya wouldn't hurt her. She wasn't like that!" To Gracia, he asked, "When people get...turned...well, are they the same as before?"  
  
Both dark-haired siblings tried desperately to ignore the horrendous memories brought up by this innocent question. Of him torturing Gracia as Grace as he murdered their family and friends. Of him deceiving her into meeting him. Of him taunting her before he killed her. Of him destroying her...  
  
Gracia swallowed and shook her head vigorously. "No. Not at all. Although a few characteristics may be kept, mainly they aren't what they used to be. It's just...demon in there. Why?"  
  
Luke and Keisha looked at each other for a moment and Keisha shrugged, wiping her brimming tears away. Luke sighed and began to explain.  
  
"You see, we have...had a godmother called Meredith. She was quite young, only about forty or something, so it doesn't seem fair. Her and her family were found dead after her eldest daughter Tanya disappeared, and this was about two years ago. We never found out what happened, but the doctors said that there was 'severe trauma to the neck'. Sounds like a vampire. And Tanya was never found."  
  
"You think she was vamped?" Angel asked.  
  
Slowly, hesitantly, Luke nodded. Then he added, almost hurriedly, "But we can't be sure."  
  
"It sounds like it." Gracia said. "I'm sorry."  
  
Keisha took in a deep, shaky breath, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. Cecelia studied them, still cold but slightly less derisive.  
  
"Are you suggesting we spend time in searching for this single vampire, someone who might not even be a vampire? She might have just wanted to escape her family."   
  
Luke glared at Cecelia. "Tanya loved her family. She'd never do anything to hurt them, and she was too shy to go running off."  
  
Behind those glasses, Gracia briefly thought she saw a small, quick spark of interest, but it was soon back to those silver mirrors, steely and hard. She shook her head slightly and looked back at Luke, telling herself to pay attention to what she was a hundred percent sure was happening.   
  
"What did you say her name was?"  
  
"Tanya."  
  
"Tanya what, exactly?"  
  
"Tanya Atkins."  
  
If Cecelia had been a more normal person, with feelings and emotions that were not hidden by an iron-like personality and stance, she might have pulled a face of thoughtful curiosity, but as it was she remained the same as before.  
  
"Why?" asked Keisha. "Do you know something about her?"  
  
Cecelia turned her eyes to the speaker. "I was merely asking. Don't raise your hopes for anything, girl, anything which might eventually fail."  
  
Luke remembered something and looked at Gracia. "What's this about you being Angel's sister? Explanation needed please."  
  
Gracia shot Angel a hidden glance, warning him to keep silent. She hung her head slightly and chewed her lip, striving to look somewhere near resignation and minor regret.  
  
"Have I told you that I'm adopted?" she asked. The twins thought for a moment, then nodded simultaneously. Keisha said, "I think so."  
  
"Well, you see, back in the children's home, they split me and Angel up for some reason. He got fostered whilst I stayed where I was. Later on, he got adopted-I was about three at the time, and couldn't object. Few years on, I got adopted as well, but Angel and I lost contact. When you're eighteen, you can ask for things like birth certificates, find out who your real family is, or was. Both our parents were dead, but it mentioned a sister. Me." Gracia found the lies getting easier and easier as she went on. It was like spinning a silken web to protect herself and her brother. "Anyways, he decided to track me down and found that I'd just emigrated to America. He followed, and we finally met up."  
  
Angel mentally blessed his little sister and her ease at untruths. He guessed she'd become accustomed to them, being the Slayer and having to lie about why she stayed out so late. In her last life, she had been quite different. One of his weapons had been her strong faith in God, and the belief that her sins were casting her down. Just about a century later, the same tactics worked on Drusilla.  
  
Keisha found a problem though, and frowned as she asked, "But why didn't you just tell us that?"  
  
Gracia kneaded her forehead with her right knuckles, hating the way she had to lie to her friends, even if it was simple and the only thing she could do. "I don't know. I'm sorry. My parents don't know that Angel tracked me down. We kept it secret in case they got upset. I thought that if you knew, you might accidently let slip to them. Nothing personal."  
  
"That's OK." Luke forgave.  
  
Keisha shrugged. "I guess you two do look kinda similar."  
  
Gracia smiled at her, then noticed out of the corner of her eye that Cecelia was swelling up in rage at what she knew to be untrue. Having trained as a Watcher for years, she knew a vampire when it was about, and that fact didn't fit in with the rest of the story. She hurriedly checked her watch before Cecelia could object or insult, and before the twins could question the 'murderous monster' comment as well as the crucifix and the mention of 'Angelus'.  
  
"Oh god, it's already half eleven." Glancing back up at her friends, she suggested, "Maybe we should all go home. My parents will probably go on a rampage if I get home now, let alone later."  
  
Luke looked at his watch and swore. "Keish, we'd better go. Mom is gonna go mad!"  
  
Keisha rose at that, leaning on Gracia and Luke again as she still felt mentally weak. They were half way to the door when Cecelia called Gracia back. Removing Keisha's arm from her shoulders, Gracia told them to go ahead and meet her outside before trudging back to her mentor.  
  
"What is it, Cecelia?"  
  
Cecelia shot her another look that would freeze molten lava in a second. "You have just commited a terrible act against all that the Watcher's council strives for. Few Slayers have ever had friends, and if you really cared about them, then you would not have any contact with them. For two who have no training or special powers, involving them in this dark world has put a threat on their lives. And as for this friendly conversing with the enemy, well..." Cecelia's nostril's flared and she seemed to be at a loss for words in the torrent of contempt she was experiencing at thise moment.  
  
Gracia met her gaze both levelly and coldly as she replied in a low voice, "They know now, and it'll increase their watchfulness. If they fear so much for their lives, it's their choice to disentangle themselves from the mess of a Slayer's life. And my brother," She shot Angel, who was standing waiting for her by the door, a quick glance. "Has a soul and remorse, whether you believe it or not. And as I'm sure you are so busy here, I'll leave you now to get on with your work."  
  
That said, she turned on her heel and stalked across the room, leaving Cecelia Rees to watch as she left the room with Angel. The door shut softly behind them with a click. The noise of receeding footsteps and dimming voices triggered Cecelia's next thoughts and movements. Picking up her case from the desk, she left the room also, but in the oposite direction to Gracia.  
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Woohoo! Christmas is nearly here! **Cheers and dances around the room with almost-empty bag of sugar** You shoulda seen me yesterday-my friend spray-dyed my hair bright green, and managed to get some of it down my cheek. As you can guess, we were all hyper, as is normal. Anyways, enough of my pointless babbling. If you've read this far, you might as well click on that little box down there and submit your reviews, hopefully full of praise for lil' ole me! :) 


	6. Danger and Darkness Lurking...

A/N:I have absolutely nothing to say. This is just a time waster. Heeheeheeeee!!! ;-D I have NO idea why I just did that...  
  
Disclaimer: I only own a few meagre pence and the aforementioned (check the first chapter) stripey sock. Not even my sanity...not that such a creature exists. Oh c'mon, you didn't guess?  
  
Dedication: All those who r/r my fics. BTW, if you're waiting for an update in this or another one of my stories, check out my profile and other stories you haven't (or maybe have, if you're that desperate) read.  
  
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The warehouse would have been completely dark had it not been for the flickering candles set out on upturned crates in the main area amidst the gathering.  
  
The place had long ago been abandoned when the company went bankrupt. Now it was alive with the dead. A nest of evil.  
  
There was a throne at the end of the room on a makeshift stage. Not exactly the gold, plush chair of fairytales- this was constructed of grey stone carved crudely into the shape of ancient bones and skulls, all looking tortured. At least, that was what it seemed to be, but nobody knew for sure whether it was bones or stone. The crowd faced it, faces solemn and hideously vampiric.  
  
A vampire came out of the shadows by it and paced in front of them, a ghoulish grin on his face. He was tall and heavily built, with brown hair and glowing gold eyes. He stood with his back to the throne, half obscuring it from the vampires.  
  
"My brethren," he said, voice hissing in the ultimate silence. "My family of the night, we tonight are a step further in the process of Resurrection. We have almost located the whereabouts of the book of Amora- this time, nothing will stand in the way of our leader. This time, he shall be invincible.  
  
"As you all know, it has been almost a decade since our great leader's downfall. He was slain at the hands of," The vampire's voice grew with inexpressible rage. "Not a Slayer, but of a traitor of our own kind. Our first act, when our leader regains his strength, is to slay him, and then the defector formally known as Angelus, Scourge of Europe. Their betrayal is unforgivable and even the most extreme penance before death is not enough. That is why they will pay with their lives."  
  
Before the vampire, obviously some kind of leader, could continue, the crowd separated to let a cloaked figure drift through. The being ascended the steps to the stage and turned to face the vampires, each one watching intently as they shifted back to fill the gap again. The shadows prevented them from viewing the face.  
  
"Ah, you have blessed us with your presence at last," the leader vamp sneered. "You should have been here an hour ago."  
  
"Save your words, Zachary," the person said maliciously. "I could have not come at all."  
  
"You knew that we would kill you."  
  
"You need my help. I can help obtain the Book of Amora and perform the spell to raise your leader. Having left no skeleton, he cannot be brought back the typical way. Only the darkest magicks from this book can do it, and to get it, you need me."  
  
A vampire in the crowd spoke up. "But it seems to me that the Slayer will do everything in her power to prevent his Resurrection. How can we stand against her when she kills so many?"  
  
The crowd all turned to stare at the young red-haired vampire with such contempt that she may have flinched had she not been prepared for such a reaction.  
  
"Tanna, Tanna," Zachary said. "The time of the strongest Slayer has both come and passed. Our guest here," he gestured to the cloaked person. "Has information on the new Slayer that we hope will prove most valuable."  
  
His glare silently added 'or else'.  
  
"Fear not, the new Slayer will prove no match for such a quantity of us," the shrouded one told them. "She has been with her powers for just three months- not yet trained or anything. I can break her down, and with her the one you call Angelus."  
  
Zachary frowned. "But why would you do all this for us? There is a flaw in that, some catch, and you cannot fool us. What is it you wish for in return?"  
  
The person turned their masked head towards the vampire. "There is something I wish for."  
  
"What is it?" The vampire's temper was beginning to snap.  
  
"Grant me eternal life as a vampire, and I shall help you to kill the Slayer and her allies, and also help to Resurrect The Anointed One."  
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By far this was the shortest chapter yet, but I reckoned it probably stood better on its own rather than carrying on about what else happened to the good guys and whatever. Sorry about the length- it's less than two pages and took me only about half an hour from my ready-made ideas. Now please review, and no flames about bringing vamps back to...um, life. If you want a season's greeting, my profile has one as of yet. If you're reading this after Christmas, hope you had a good one. 


	7. Friends, Siblings, and Mentors...

A/N:Any ideas how to possibly make the twins seem less like Willow and Xander? I MEAN (possibly) sensible ones...and I'm not making them kleptomaniacs or cannibals or whatever, like someone told me to do to my Harry Potter character. Not having a rant here (yeah right!) Much appreciated, all ideas. Just minor things need to be altered I think. I really genuinely do value your input in my fics. ;-)  
  
Disclaimer:Here's a little story for you: Once upon a time, there was a guy called Joss Whedon who had a really good idea for a show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Various rabid people became obsessed with it, and decided to write fics, as well as r/r-ing other peoples ones, about this show. He also created the really cool character of Spike, who might later be appearing in this fic. Please note that his name was JOSS WHEDON, and Shadowz owns nothing.  
  
Dedication: FanFreak, who had the really cool idea of making a Sim of Cecelia and killing her. Made me crack up, that did. :) I might try it myself some time.  
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"Put some effort into it, girl!"  
  
Irritation burning, Gracia took a deep breath, chart wheeled over to where her Watcher stood holding a large, black pad filled with foam, and struck it hard with a roundhouse kick. She was about to pummel it again when Cecelia cast it angrily aside.  
  
"You're not trying hard enough! I can see what move you're about to use, and if I was a vampire, I could snap your neck in a second due to your lack of skill!"  
  
Gracia had had enough. It had been a long hour and a half she had endured, of strenuous fighting, gymnastics, and insults. At first, she had bitten them back, attempting to 'take them with a pinch of salt' as her mother said, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as Cecelia's taunts grew more and more venomous. She went over to the main table and sat on it, pulling a bottle of water out of her bag that lay there.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Cecelia thundered, storming over to her pupil. "You're here to train, not sit around!"  
  
Gracia wearily took a swig of the cool water, screwed the top back onto the bottle, and held it to her unbearably hot cheek in an attempt to cool down. "I thought you were here to teach me, not to insult." she snapped.  
  
Cecelia's nostrils flared, the way Gracia had learnt over the past week meant that her temper and patience were wearing thinner than usual. Usually, she attempted to avoid it. However, at the moment, she really couldn't care less. She didn't know what it was, but something about her just annoyed the English librarian naturally. Why try to avoid something that would happen anyway? Every time they trained, or spoke, or even met, Gracia got the distinct impression that Cecelia didn't like her at all.  
  
"Impudence gets you nowhere. I left my home, my country, and most of my life to help you, and what do I get in return? Cheek and insults! This just will not do!"   
  
Gracia jumped off of the table and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Save your breath for the few who'll listen. I've had enough, and I have classes to go to."  
  
She was almost at the door when Cecelia stepped in front of her path. She rolled her dark brown eyes and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Thought we'd been through this. I. Have. Things. To. Do. And let's face it, even the prospect of advanced quadratic equations in the maths room is much brighter than sticking around here to be insulted."  
  
Cecelia's voice was low and nasty. "I see. From the moment I set eyes on you, I knew that you'd not amount to much. I could see that you were a slacker, and a fool, and weak! And now you've proved me right. You are an immature nobody!"  
  
Gracia stepped to Cecelia's left to get to the door. Cecelia followed. With Slayer reflexes, she shot to the right and managed to bound through the door just before Cecelia could catch her and just as the bell sounded. With a quick, mocking salute at the irate Watcher through the doors window, she tore down the corridor. In the next hallway, she met up with Keisha and Luke, coming out of Geography.   
  
"Hey guys, what did I miss?" she asked brightly, her dismal mood clearing up at the sight of her friends.  
  
"Hi Gracia." Keisha replied with a smile, linking arms with her friend.  
  
They all set off for Maths. Luke said, "The answer to your question goes a little something like this." He cleared his throat and put on the wooden expression that their History teacher had permanently stuck on his face, and changed his voice into one that gave a killing impression. "The Pilgrim Fathers...blah, blah, blah...couldn't gain enough freedom for religious practices...something, something...um..."  
  
"Missed out the bit about the landing in America," Keisha helped out. "Oh yeah, and we need to write an essay on the full reasons the pilgrims left England."  
  
"Well, if everybody was like Cecelia then, I wouldn't blame them." Gracia muttered as they entered the classroom and took their seats.  
  
"Why, what happened?"  
  
"Oh, the usual. All the same old insults and hatred. I really think she should talk over her issues with a psychiatrist."  
  
"I'll give her the number for Luke's," Keisha said. "Why's she like that anyways?"  
  
Luke shrugged. "Well, she's English, right? Must be trauma from dressing like the nineteenth century all her life." (A/N:No offence meant, honest.)  
  
"Excuse him, I don't think he's trying to annoy you." Keisha said.  
  
Gracia shrugged. "No offence taken, I'm not English, I'm Irish. And I grew up with all the 'Englishman, Scotsman, and Irishman' jokes."   
  
"What is it with her though?" Luke asked. "She doesn't like any of us much?"  
  
"Understatement." Gracia said with a sigh. "Even Angel doesn't like her. I don't know what he thinks though, apart from that. It's like he thinks something is wrong."  
  
"It is," Luke said. "We have maths. There is no God."  
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Angel sat alone in his basement apartment. Listening to the receiver in England ring. Waiting for someone to pick it up.  
  
Eventually, they did. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Giles. This is Angel."  
  
Angel noted the obvious surprise in the voice of the English ex-Watcher. "Angel. I didn't expect a call from you."  
  
"That was certain. But I need your help. There's some trouble with the new Slayer."  
  
"What do you mean? The...the new Slayer has come to L.A.?" Giles sounded confused for some reason.  
  
"No. She's here in Sunnydale. It's not her though, it's her Watcher."   
  
"What's wrong? I'm a bit lost here."  
  
He explained about his meeting with Gracia, about how she was his reborn sister, and about everything that had happened in the past few weeks. Giles listened silently, and Angel could just see his thoughtful expression.  
  
"So you say that this girl- this Slayer- is your sister Grace?" Giles asked. "I've only ever heard of two cases like this, but they were both hundreds of years ago. That's not to say that reincarnation doesn't take place a lot more often than that."  
  
"I'm just glad she's here." Angel told him. "Like I said before, the real problem is her Watcher. She's just...sadistic in some ways. I wanted to see if you knew anything about her."  
  
"Sadistic? How do you mean?"  
  
Again, Angel had to explain, this time using the information Gracia had passed onto him each time they met to stake vampires- how Cecelia expected her to be much more advanced than possible, how she put her down, how she disliked her. Again, he could sense the man's pensiveness.  
  
"Well, I'm afraid that very nearly all of my colleagues when I was a Watcher believed that this was the key to training a Slayer. If you became emotionally attached to the Slayer you wouldn't be able to force her to the limits of her powers and eventually send her to her death. What's her name?"  
  
"Cecelia Rees."  
  
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "About how old is she? What does she look like?"  
  
"Thirty-something is my guess. Quite tall, thin, blonde, glasses."  
  
"No, I don't know her. Sorry that I can't be of more assistance." Angel heard him sigh. "Tell Gracia to not take all the comments to heart as much as she has. That's all the advice I can give. Cecelia is trying to help her, after all."  
  
"Believe me." Angel said bleakly. "They're intended to strike her down."   
Giles sighed. "Not being there, I can't judge the situation well. What else is happening in Sunnydale?"  
  
"The usual. I know there's something wrong, but there are no signs of whatever it is yet."  
  
"They'll show, sooner or later. They always do."  
  
"I'm just worried for Gracia. She's only been the Slayer for three months. What if she can't cope?"  
  
"I'm sure she's much stronger than you think. She's got Slayer powers and she's proved she can use them."  
  
"I guess. Thanks anyway. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Angel replaced the receiver and sat alone in the silence once more. He spent every second worrying about his sister, although he wouldn't tell her that. Was she OK? What was she doing? How were people treating her? How was Cecelia treating her?  
  
He hadn't known the woman long, but he hated her, almost as much as he hated himself. Because when he saw her sneering at Cecelia, he saw part of himself as a vampire killing her- some diluted form of what he had done. And every time he closed his eyes, he saw the darkness over Miner's Hill near Galway, closing over the stretched out form of Grace. He could hear Darla's amused laughter, as well as his own.  
  
He had cruelly broken her, and she had rebuilt. He had to protect her from meeting such a fate again. For her sake, but also for his. He couldn't bear to see her die again.  
  
The clock read 2 p.m. Just six hours until he could meet Gracia again and they could talk.   
  
Six hours until he could try to earn his redemption with her once again.  
  
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There! I tried to put more Angel in, and I put in his conversation via the phone with Giles for () and also to not make it too pointless. I wanna thank you all again for all your sweet reviews, but I need more! Which is why you're gonna click on the box below and type a loada praise and ideas to review this story. Thank you! 


	8. Attacks unseen.

A/N: This continues on from the last chapter. Basically the same day. Just to sort out confusion that may arise from that. Thank you for your time. Oh yeah, and the spell is what I made up. Total rubbish the lot of it, so please don't complain if it doesn't make sense. Sorry about the wait.  
  
Disclaimer: Blah blah not mine yadda yadda Joss's blah blah don't take the few things I own yadda yadda don't sue.   
  
Dedication: My sibling, Stormz, who gave me the Latin references. Confused? Read on.  
  
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The vampire Zachary paced angrily around the abandoned warehouse, eventually stalking over to the table that the hooded person sat cross-legged on. Apart from their low, chanting voice, the place was completely silent. All the other vampires had gone out as soon as darkness fell.  
  
"This had better work, Ambulo Mortuus." Zachary growled, halting in front of them. "If you fail..."  
  
Ambulo Mortuus finished the chanting and began to light each of the twelve large black candles forming the ring around where they were seated. "Don't doubt me, Zachary, my powers extend to regions you cannot dream of. All that I worry about is if your vampires can follow their orders."  
  
When all the candles were lit, Ambulo Mortuus crushed the sprig of foxglove in its long white hand and let the powder fall into the glass beaker in front of them. Zachary found himself unwillingly fascinated by the process of the spell as the spectre-like being added liberal amounts of belladonna. The mixture fizzed violently before changing to a black coloured, bubbling mixture.  
  
Then Ambulo Mortuus began the incantation, speaking in a hissing ancient language that Zachary didn't understand. Purely from the tone he could tell that this was harmful, malicious black magick- just what was needed. One of those pale hands brought out a small square of black plastic-like material, the sort of thing you might find on a punch bag. It held it above the bubbling potion, and carried on chanting for a short moment before dropping it in.  
  
The liquid sparked and swirled, turning dark red in the process. Trendrils of black and mauve smoke began to wisp off of it. Zachary's amber eyes were riveted as each of the flames flickered a sickly green. Suddenly, clarity dawned on him and he finally understood what Ambulo Mortuus was saying.  
  
"May ill-fortune and pain come upon her and those she holds dear," Ambulo Mortuus was chanting. "May she become weak and sorrowful, may she be struck down."  
  
Ambulo Mortuus cupped those hands around the glass beaker and lifted it above the green flame of the largest candle, the candle directly in front of where it sat. The flames turned the darkest black possible as Ambulo Mortuus shouted the last words to complete the hex.  
  
"So mote it be!"  
  
The flames were immediately and simultaneously doused.  
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Keisha twisted the crucifix in her hand nervously. "So, how exactly do we kill vampires?"  
  
Gracia patiently launched into explanation for the fifth time. "Just drive a wooden stake through their heart. But they don't like crucifixes, holy water, sunlight, stuff like that. So if you just show them the cross, they'll be driven back. OK?"  
  
"Yeah. Sorry."  
  
"That's alright." Gracia smiled and glanced at Luke, who was walking on her other side. "Do you understand?"  
  
Luke looked up from the large bottle of holy water he was carrying, obviously coming out of a trance of fairly deep thought. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure."   
  
Gracia was about to say something in reply when they all heard a noise as somebody tall stepped in front of them. Gracia and Luke tensed themselves for battle, when suddenly Keisha exclaimed, "Angel! Don't do that!"  
  
Gracia blinked and looked closer, then lowered the stake in her hand. "Heck, watch out! You should know not to creep up on people when they're on patrol."  
  
Angel winced slightly at the definate worry that had appeared in her voice, then hoped that they hadn't seen that. "Sorry Gracey."  
  
"Yeah," Luke joked, although there wasn't as much humor in his voice as usual. "You could end up impaled on the wrong end of a stake."  
  
Gracia bit her tongue to keep it from speaking until the urge to do so passed. Angel broke the somewhat awkward silence.  
  
"You going to the graveyard?"  
  
She looked at him for a moment then smiled. "Yeah. The twins are showing me where it is. I think there could be some 'new arrivals' tonight and we're gonna welcome them in true Sunnydale style."  
  
The graveyard wasn't really that far, and the two-minute walk to it passed in relative silence. Gracia's Slayer senses were working overtime, listening out for any possible movement or noise. Luke and Angel were equally as alert, but all Keisha could think about (no matter how hard she tried to ignore it) was how she was standing next to Angel. They worked their way through the network of headstones to just about the middle of the place when a noise from the group's left made them turn. Gracia drew the stake out from her jacket again and paced slowly closer. She disappeared into the shadows for a second before a guy flew into view, striking his head hard on a marble gravemarker as he landed.   
  
He was dark-haired, gold-eyed and complete with a vampiric mask. He rose giddily, shook his head to clear his swimming view, and suddenly realised that he was facing two powerless sixteen-year-olds. If he could just make them abandon their weapons and ward off the approaching Slayer, he'd have a free meal.  
  
He wasn't counting on the yet-unseen guy behind him. Angel swung his clenched fist at the back of the enemy's head, and he was thrown by sheer force over the headstone and into another. He yelled out, "Back-up!" just before Gracia staked him and he crumbled to dust.  
  
All around them, figures started to move. As they came into the moonlight, the four saw their vampiric faces, saw their fighting stances, saw their fierce expressions. Gracia and Angel both backed up closer to Keisha and Luke. Luke swore softly as he realised just how hopelessly outnumbered they were. About a hundred to one. Not good.  
  
The vampires had encircled them unnoticed, and now began to close in on them. The quartet formed a circle, facing outwards, ready to fight. There was a moment's lull, silence once again reigning.  
  
Then the vampires charged in, and the Slayer, the souled vampire, and the twins all ran outwards to meet them.  
  
Chaos was the order for the next ten minutes. Vampires staggered back from the crucifix and holy water, only to find themselves, to quote Luke, 'impaled on the wrong end of a stake', weilded by either the Slayer or her brother.   
  
Keisha found herself knocked down from behind and banged her head against the ground. As she rose slightly, her unsteady gaze was drawn to somebody standing in the shadows smoking. She peered at them confusedly and they stared back. Then they nodded slightly to indicate that she should look behind her. She obeyed and found a fang-bearing guy about to bite. With a startled scream, she shoved the crucifix so close to his face that it began to burn immediately. After a shocked second, he staggered upright and back, clutching the wound, and straight onto a stake. When Keisha looked back, the person had gone.  
  
Eventually, only eleven were left, with a severely burnt twelfth. They exchanged a glance, then ran as fast as they could. Gracia flopped down against a headstone, exhausted. After a moment, she looked up at Angel (who had his back to the three teenagers) with raised eyebrows.  
  
"You OK?"  
  
Angel was sure to remove all traces of his vampire face before he turned. "Sure. Keisha? Luke?"  
  
"Yeah, we're good." Luke replied. He held out the now empty glass bottle of holy water towards Gracia. "You want this back?"  
  
"Nah. You can keep it." Gracia smiled wryly. "Consider it a souvenir."  
  
And all the while they were still being watched.   
  
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When Gracia slipped into the dark kitchen via the back door, she silently congratulated herself for entering unnoticed. From the living room came muffled sounds of the television playing and a conversation between her parents. This room only had the sound of Scrappy's dreaming snuffles from the corner to break the quiet. Success.  
  
The light flipped on as she shut the door gently.  
  
Damn.  
  
Brianna was standing there in her scruffy pyjamas, an eyebrow arched at her elder sister.  
  
Double damn.  
  
"You're late back," she said softly. "Did Mum and Dad even know you were going out? I thought they said you were writing some essay and couldn't be disturbed."  
  
"Of course they knew," Gracia lied. She moved towards the table and sat casually on it, striving to act as normal as possible. "You really have to get over that issue of trying to get me permanently grounded."  
  
Brianna shot her a suspicious glare before crossing the kitchen to a worktop, standing on tiptoe to open a high cupboard and pull out a glass. Gracia watched indifferently as she walked over to the sink and filled it from the cold tap. She turned slowly, carefully, and frowned at Gracia.  
  
"What?"  
  
Gracia shrugged. "Nothing."  
  
Brianna started over to sit at the table, glass in right hand. When she was about halfway across, she began to say something when suddenly she shrieked.  
  
Gracia let out a startled yell as Brianna's foot seem to collide with something and she tripped. The next few seconds seemed to move in slow motion. The glass slipped from Brianna's grasp a fraction before she landed, smashed on the tiles and water ran across them. Brianna landed heavily on her right forearm.  
  
The Slayer instincts finally kicked in as she leapt off the table and rushed over to the girl, avoiding the fragment of shattered glass as she helped her to sit up safely. Strangely, she was not crying or holding a pained expression. Gracia was puzzled by her wide-eyed silence until she looked at her sister's right wrist as Brianna raised it.  
  
A large piece of jagged, curved glass was embedded into the skin and blood was beginning to trickle down her arm. Brianna stared at it as though fasinated by the injury, whereas Gracia yelled again in shock.  
  
"Mum! Dad!" she screamed, hurriedly running to grab a tea towel off of the worktop. "Come quick! Mum! Dad!"  
  
Her parents rushed in, and their reactions to what had happened where similar to Gracia's. Scrappy awoke and started barking at the commotion.  
  
"Call an ambulance, Mark," Mrs. McCormack said, joining her daughters on the floor. "What happened, Gracia?"  
  
"She was carrying a glass and she tripped. It smashed and some got in her wrist."  
  
Their mother took Brianna's arm and studied it, taking the tea towel from Gracia and using it to bind the limb further down the arm, in the hopes of slowing the bloodflow. "Brianna, honey, does it hurt?"  
  
Brianna shook her head. "No." She looked up into their scared, worried faces confusedly. "What's the matter? That must mean that it's not in too deep, right? Just make sure Scrappy doesn't come close enough to cut himself on the glass."  
  
"Brianna, if there's no pain, that's bad." Gracia said. "You might have cut a vein or something. But we'll get you to the hospital and it'll be OK."  
  
Their father came in at that point, running a hand through his light hair agitatedly. "They say they'll be here in five minutes or so. Don't take out the glass yet or it might bleed worse."  
  
Mrs. McCormack and Gracia both stood up and helped Brianna to her feet carefully as Mr. McCormack removed Scrappy to the living room.   
  
"Come on honey," Mrs. McCormack soothed. "It'll be fine."  
  
Her pale face told Gracia that she wasn't so sure. 


	9. Confusion and Premonitions of the Past.

A/N:Anyone seen Lord of the Rings? OMG, that film was so cool! My friend- for some reason- cried at the end. Dunno why. But it was so good! Anyways, this is a Buffy fic, so it shall continue.  
  
Disclaimer: Do you own Buffy? Nope, didn't think so. Neither do I. Only the plot etc.  
  
Dedication: All you reviewers again! Thanx a million and a half for your reviews!  
  
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Angel walked into the high school library the night after the fight in the graveyard, expecting and hoping to see Gracia. All he was greeted with, though were the twins sitting at a large table. Luke was hurriedly completing his Spanish assignment whilst Keisha was doing something on her mobile phone- probably a text message. He had entered the place so quietly that he had expected not to be noticed, but Keisha looked up immediately. A small smile spread across her pretty face, briefly brushing aside the tired kind of worry previously held there.  
  
"Hi Angel."  
  
Luke looked up, surprised. His expression was similar to what Keisha's had been. "Oh. Hey."  
  
"Hi." Angel said. "Is Gracia here?"  
  
Keisha frowned confusedly. "You didn't know?"  
  
"Know what?" Now Angel was beginning to freak out. If something had happened to Gracia...if he had allowed some harm to come to her...  
  
Keisha opened her mouth to speak, but she was struggling with the words so much that no noise came out. How could she explain what she was told that morning over the phone to Angel? Luke glanced at her and then at Angel, face grim.  
  
"She's at the hospital." he stated bluntly. Keisha shot him a quick glare, wondering how he could just come out with it in four simple words.  
  
"What?" Angel almost yelled, panic consuming him completely. "Is she hurt? What's wrong?"  
  
"No," Keisha said. "No, she's fine. It's- it's her sister. Gracia said she fell and cut her wrist on some glass. They had to take her to hospital last night, and last I heard she was being checked out again. They're keeping her in for observations. We would have gone to visit, but they only let relatives in." She blushed slightly. "Which I guess you sorta are."  
  
He turned to go, then looked back. "What name do I ask for?"  
  
"Brianna. Brianna McCormack." Keisha stuttered, telling herself firmly to stop looking at those lovely eyes of his.  
  
"Thanks." He left then, and she sighed quietly, looking back down at the screen of her mobile phone. She missed Luke's interpretation of the exchange, one that he had watched with raised eyebrows. He knew that he had been right before.  
  
Then he wondered where Cecelia was. He didn't think that she of all people would want to miss out on a chance of having a go at Angel. For some unknown reason, she hated him even more than Keisha liked him.  
  
*******************************************************************************  
  
Angel reached the reception desk just as the woman behind it directed a couple (one of whom appeared to have broken their arm) to another part of the hospital. They left and the woman smiled at him.  
  
"Can I help you, love?"  
  
Had he needed to breath, his run from the school to the hospital probably would have winded him. "Yeah. I'm looking for someone admitted last night, a child. Brianna McCormack."  
  
The receptionist turned to her computer and tapped something into the keyboard. She looked back up at Angel.  
  
"I'll need your name and relation to the patient. Also some ID."  
  
"Uh...I'm her cousin. My name's Angel."  
  
"Angel what?"  
  
"Um...Angel McCormack."  
  
This seemed to convince the receptionist about 98%. "Can I have somw ID please? Just to check?"  
  
"I...don't have any on me. Look, please, I have to see Brianna."  
  
"Sorry," the receptionist shook her head regretfully. "No ID, no entry. Sorry, but I have to comply to the rules."  
  
Her expression told her that she couldn't break the strict hospital rules. He sighed and nodded, moving away across the crowded waiting room to where he couldn't be seen clearly by the receptionist. When he was sure that nobody was looking, he quickly slipped into the door on his right and hurried along the corridors to find Gracia and Brinna.  
  
It took him about five minutes to locate the children's wing, and he wandered along the brightly-painted corridor, alertly searching each room through the windows. Then he eventually reached the place he was looking for, just past the first children's ward.  
  
It was a small room, with only one bed, a small cabinet beside it, and three chairs. From here, he could see a small person lying in the bed, and Gracia sitting in one of the chairs beside the bed. He slowly opened the door and came in as silently as he could.  
  
Gracia was so absorbed in her own little world that she didn't realise the presence until Angel put his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up behind her and attempted to give him a tiny smile. She failed.  
  
"Hi." she said softly.  
  
"Hi Gracey. Are you OK?" Angel too kept his voice low.  
  
"Yeah, fine. Just Brianna..." She trailed off and getured to the sleeping girl in the bed. Angel studied her. She was about eleven, untidy dirty-blonde hair fanning out over the pillows, face screwed up slightly in her sleep. She was still wearing her own pyjamas, and her right wrist (the one closest to them) was bandaged firmly. Gracia sighed and fiddled with the mobile phone in her lap. Angel realised it was probably what she had contacted Keisha on.  
  
He pulled a chair close to hers and sat down, leaning down so that he could watch her bowed face. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked gently. She nodded, and reeled off the previous night's events, right from when she got into the house. She found that it helped more to talk to him about what she had witnessed than it did to talk to hospital staff or her friends, or even her parents. She knew why. She had known Angel the longest.  
  
"It was an accident," Angel said at the end of her tale. "There was nothing you could have done."  
  
"But...but it wasn't..." Gracia frowned as she recalled each exact detail of Brianna's fall.   
  
"She fell over. She happened to be carrying something dangerous. Nobody's fault, but she'll be fine."  
  
"No. I'm not saying she fell. I'm saying she..." Gracia's face twisted as she desperately tried to think of a way to describe it. "She...she tripped."  
  
"I thought her path was clear."  
  
Gracia looked straight at him, eyes fierce and confused and lost and angry all at once. "Exactly. There was nothing there...that I could see." She sighed, shoulders slumping. "Oh Angel, I don't understand it. I know what I saw, but it can't be right. Can it?"  
  
There was a long moment of silence before Angel repplied. "It sounds like witchcraft."  
  
"You...you mean somebody actually meant to do this to her?" Gracia was clearly disgusted and appalled as she looked at Brianna quickly. She missed a flash of hurt in Angel's eyes as he thought, Just as I meant to hurt Mother and Father. And Patrick and Phyllis and Jane. And Grace.  
  
"I can't be sure yet, but I'll find out. I know some people who would be able to tell me, but I'll have to phone them in the morning."  
  
"Great." Gracia managed to turn out a bleak smile now. "Thank you."  
  
"That's OK. You'll probably have enough to do anyway, what with staying here and all."  
  
"No." She shifted, hugging her knees up under her chin. "Mum and Dad reckon I should go back to school as soon as possible. They're letting Brianna out in the morning. Anyway, the moment I get back, Cecelia'll be getting me back into the old routine of fight and insult."  
  
"Is it really that bad?" His tone was concerned.  
  
Gracia looked into the depths of how much he cared about her happiness, and felt helpless. How could she tell him about how hard she found it? How could she tell him about the spitefull barbs that the Watcher kept tossing at her about how 'terrible' she was doing? How could she tell him how impossibly tired she nearly always felt, how she was starting to find concentration in both studies and slaying difficult? She didn't want to worry him.  
  
"No. No, really, I shouldn't complain. I expect other Slayers have had it tougher than me." Seeing that Angel wasn't convinced, she tried to change the subject with a joke. "I wish I'd brought the Slayer Handbook to read now. Give me something to do. Cecelia's intent on me finishing it, but TV is way more interesting." She tried another smile, but it was met with solemness.  
  
Just then, Brianna began to stir, her injured wrist held out from her stiffly. She scrunched up her face then opened her tired blue eyes. She peered about the room in sleepy confusion before her gaze fell on the pair watching her. She attempted to sit up, without a whole lot of success. She let her skinny body drop back onto the bed fully.  
  
"Gracia?" she murmured. "Where's Mum and Dad?"  
  
Gracia stood up and went over to the bed, brushing back some of the blonde locks that were annoying Brianna by hanging in her vision. "I'll get them for you." She turned to say something to Angel and then to leave to find their parents, who she had sent off to the canteen.  
  
The door softly clicked shut. Angel was gone.  
  
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It was now long past midnight, and Keisha was dreaming again.  
  
She had quite a lot of dreams. Some were pretty cool, some were horribly terrifying, and others were plain stupid. But she kept having this reoccurring dream, one that made no sense. That was the one that she was immersed in now.   
She was standing- no, floating- in a comfortable-looking living room. She judged its purpose by the active fire place and elegant furniture. Three girls sat by the fire, chattering quietly. All had dark brown hair and dark eyes, and the eldest, who must have been about Keisha's own age, was seated with her back to the watching dreamer. She placed the other girls' ages at about five and three. The youngest was clutching a doll, rocking it to 'sleep'.  
  
They were all dressed strangely. Their dresses were of a strange fashion that Keisha had only ever seen in history textbooks. Long, flowing gowns of satin with wide skirts and square necklines and tight bodices. The sort of dress that Keisha knew she'd never even be able to walk in, let alone cart around all day.  
  
Suddenly a door opened and a nervous-looking woman entered, wringing her hands. Her beautiful face was pale and her mouth was twisting as much as her hands. She began to pace across the stone floor, eventually stopping with a helpless expression turned towards the girls.  
  
"Grace?" Her voice was heavily accented with old Irish. "Do you know where Liam is?"  
  
The eldest girl turned, but in the opposite direction from Keisha, so that she still could not see her face. She brushed down her elaborate skirts and walked over to the woman.  
  
"Mother, has he not come home yet? Do not fret, I am sure that he will be safe." she soothed. The anxious woman began to pace again.  
  
"Oh, I just worry so much. If only he would do as your father says...he gets so angry with him. I'm sure it's not his fault though, I mean, he does try to be good..."  
  
A noise came from outside the room, like a door opening, and the mother ran to meet the person. The younger sisters looked at the older girl.  
  
"My angel has come home!" the youngest declared joyfully, getting up and racing as fast as her cumbersome dress would allow her after her mother.  
  
"Is Liam really home?" the middle sister asked, as though she daren't believe it.  
  
"It will be Father returning from work." The eldest sat back down, her tone honest and tired. "Liam won't be home until gone midnight as usual."  
  
Then a series of lightning-fast images flashed in front of Keisha, overtaking the scene. The eldest girl crying whilst she prayed in a dark church. A hill. Blood. Two vampires, a blonde female and a dark-haired male, dressed in Victorian fashions drinking from tiny children. A small girl sitting alone by an institution window. The dark-haired vampire approaching what seemed to be a grotesque statue, grinning in evil delight. Angel hugging a petite blonde girl...  
  
As always, Keisha awoke suddenly, turquoise eyes snapping open as she sat bolt upright. But this time she was not alone.  
  
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Decided to leave it there for now, quadratic sequences await. Damn. Anyways, please review. FanFreak, please be patient. He may appear soon. ;-D So...you can review now! Thank you! 


	10. Of intruders and books.

A/N: I spent today almost throwing up into a basin and arguing about the Lord of the Rings movie with my friends via phone and text. Then I decided I should write. So here I am!  
  
Disclaimer: I own my characters, plots, etc. but I think that Angel and all the original ideas own themselves. 'Cause they're real. Right? Right? Of course. So I dunno where this Joss Whedon guy fits into it. **shrugs**  
  
Dedication: For Emily. Thank you for reviewing all my fics **grins** It isn't annoying, no, in fact all of you can review 'em all! Anyways, sorry about the Liam/Angelus mix-up, I wrote that before I found out. I'm thinkin' of sorting it out...what d'you all think? Opinions please.  
  
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Keisha stared at the woman sitting on the end of her bed. The woman stared right back at her. Both silently.  
  
What was she? She was definitely female, but just...not human. Not vampire either. She was a silvery colour, but very transparent. Keisha could see right through her to her desk, littered in half-finished homework. Neither moved or made a sound for about a minute.   
  
She wasn't scared. Why, she didn't know. She had just awoken from that weird dream again to find an apparition...a ghost...sitting on the end of her bed. She wasn't even startled. It was as if she knew that she would see this thing when she awoke. Maybe she hadn't been alone whilst she slept at all.   
  
Eventually, Keisha started to worry. What was this thing doing here? And why now? Thinking, and slightly worrying, that the ghost might disappear before she could find out what was going on, she whispered, "Who are you?"  
  
The ghost smiled in a friendly way. She was probably about in her mid-twenties, Keisha thought, really too young to die.  
  
"I'm a Slayer. Like your friend Grace." The ghost said.  
  
Confused, Keisha shook her head slowly. "No. My friend's called Gracia. I mean...what are you doing here?"  
  
The ghost shrugged. "Grace, Gracia, have it your way. I know what I mean. And I'm here to help you. The Powers that Be sent me here."  
  
"What is this, a horror movie? Listen, I've got an exam on algebraic equations tomorrow, and I need all the sleep I can get 'cause I haven't revised. Stop answering half-way and tell me what the hell you're doing here!"  
  
Keisha watched the ghost as she shifted slightly, leaning on the bed with her right hand. Her annoyance at being awoken so early in the morning drained as she watched in both fascination and fear as her subconcious mind began to fill in the colours of the woman. Her long curls became a shiny blonde colour, and her eyes flashed green. Her skin flushed with life. Her top became red, her trousers black, and her jacket seemed to be an old leather one.   
  
"I was sent here to help you." the ghost repeated. "To refer you to somebody who can probably help you figure out what's going on with that vampire mob that attacked you all in the graveyard the other night."  
  
"How do you know about that?" Keisha frowned. "Do you know what's going on?"  
  
"No. I was just told what happened and that I had to tell you to contact my...friend." The woman's expression was grim and serious, but her eyes seemed to be faraway in memories.   
  
"Then why did you come to me? Why not Gracia? She's the Slayer."  
  
"I was told to come to the girl called Keisha who's been having the dreams she can't understand. Gracia would probably have a wiggins if she saw me, after what happened to her sister and all."  
  
"How do you know everything that's happened? Do you know what will? What does my dream mean?"  
  
"I know because I've been told. And no, I can't see what'll happen in the future. And once again, no. I can't tell you what your dream means." There was the tiniest hint of growing impatience in the woman's voice at Keisha's questions.  
  
"I'll text Gracia." Keisha decided, reaching for her mobile phone, which was on her bedside cabinet next to her locked diary. She pulled it onto her lap and switched it on. She glanced up at the ghost as it sprung to life.  
  
"Two more things. What's the name of this friend, and, once again, what's your name?"  
  
"His name is Spike." The ghost smiled at the name. "And my name is Buffy."  
  
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"I'm telling you, it wasn't normal. And what happened afterwards...I mean, somebody explain to me, please!"   
  
Gracia used a round-kick on the punch bag, spun, and hit it hard with her fist. The punch bag swung dangerously on its chain.  
  
Luke, who was sitting nearby on the bannister, nodded approvingly. "Good hit."  
  
Cecelia scowled at him. "I suggest you concentrate less on the past and more on your training. If that sister of yours is anything like you, I put her accident down to clumsiness."  
  
Was it Luke's imagination, or did Cecelia spit out the word 'sister' as though it were bitter?  
  
Gracia stopped her assault on the punch bag and watched Cecelia, who was sorting out various ancient books by now, carefully with her wide dark eyes. She remembered that you should count to ten to control your anger and so she did, realising it wouldn't reflect good on her if she beat up the librarian. By the time she got to fifty, she was feeling no better.  
  
"And what about the army of the dead?" Luke asked.  
  
Keisha emerged from the stacks on the opposite side of the library with a heavy old book in her arms and a raised eyebrow. "I thought that was zombies?" She flicked her glance to Cecelia. "Do they exist too?"  
  
Cecelia obviously thought Keisha's queries were too immature to dignify with an answer. "The vampires of this town have obviously been allowed to run wild for too long." She glared pointedly at the Slayer over her square glasses. "I think that that would be down to your tardiness, girl."  
  
"But I go patrolling every night!" Gracia protested. "I kill vampires all the time with pointy wooden sticks, I mean, come on..."  
  
"And where were you last night?"  
  
Gracia realised that Cecelia had a viciously triumphant glint in her eyes as she said, "At the hospital. With Brianna."  
  
"You see! And perhaps your...brother decided that, in your absence, it was time to relive the glory days."  
  
Gracia glanced at the twins, who both looked very confused. She looked back at Cecelia, who might have been smirking had she been an ordinary person. She seethed silently, and when she spoke, her words were broken with anger.  
  
"You have no right to talk about him like that. That's slander, because it'll never happen. I suggest you shut up."  
  
"And I suggest you show some more respect once in a while!"  
  
Unnoticed by the commotion, Keisha bent and slipped the book into her bag where another one already lay hidden between IT and French textbooks.  
  
"Gracia!" she yelled over the noise as she straightened up. "We'd better get going, wouldn't want to miss that algebra test."  
  
Gracia turned, understanding immediately what was going on. Their plan had been formulated over an early-morning text rally, and it looked like it it had gone well.  
  
"Oh yeah, OK." She smiled sarcastically at the Watcher. "So sorry that I can't stick around to be insulted some more, but the maths room calls."  
  
The girls left, closely followed by Luke. Cecelia watched them leave, watched them weave their way through the crowded corridors. She turned, about to continue with her tasks, when the door opened and a boy walked in.  
  
"Uh, hi, I've come for-"  
  
She spun to glower at him fiercely, and he took an involuntary step back, his question hanging unanswered in the silence.  
  
"The library is closed!" she snapped. "Go to your classes! I have work to do here!"  
  
He backed worriedly out of the room, wondering whether she should visit the nearest psychiatrist. She allowed herself a minute smirk and walked back into her office where the equipment lay.  
  
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The trio made their way to the maths room, but the girls suddenly stopped. Luke went on a few paces, not noticing, and then stopped and turned around.  
  
"Maths may be an unpleasant spectre, but you've gotta sit it sooner or later," he said. "C'mon."  
  
"Liking later." Keisha said. Gracia nodded in agreement and looked pleadingly at her friend.  
  
"Please, please cover for us." She put on the puppy-dog expression. Luke raised an eyebrow. Keisha quit the persuasiveness and her expression became matter-of-fact.  
  
"Ah, c'mon Luke. You owe me one. Remember when I covered for you 'cause you broke Charlie's skateboard?"  
  
"That was three years ago!"  
  
"And I got the rap for picking on little brother. Now it's your turn. Cover, or you're facing Mom finding out."  
  
"You're an evil person, Keisha Goldsmith." Luke knew he was defeated. The girls grinned.  
  
"Hey, guilty as charged. Thanks Luke." Keisha turned to go, Gracia following. Luke shook his head at the laughing pair and continued on his way, mind concocting an elaborate lie.  
  
As soon as the girls walked into the toilets, they were faced with the prospect of Bridget Hadley and her gaggle of cheerleading ditzes. They were having a last minute preen in front of the mirror, and the four Bridget-wannabes were listening attentively to Bridget's bitching session about some disgraced ex-friend of theirs.  
  
"...and I'm telling you, that dress that Alissa was wearing yesterday, it was so last month!" Bridget's sharp brown eyes caught sight of the approaching 'geeks' and she smirked cruelly as she put away her lipstick. She turned on them, her followers watching closely to her every move.  
  
"Keisha," Bridget sneered, looking her enemy up and down, "Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured with her hand as though trying to find the right word. Eventually her smirk grew wider. "Bad taste."  
  
The four flanking her giggled. Keisha glanced down at her outfit. Her dark purple jeans with the silver beads around the ends of the legs almost completely covered her scruffy school trainers. According to 'Bridget's fashion gospel', it was an utmost sin to wear them with a form-fitting top in her favourite scarlet colour. She looked up, smiling brightly in a mock-friendly way, taking in the cheerleader's plunge-neck white dress, killer ivory shoes, and tiny white jacket.  
  
"Aw, thanks Bridget. I really value your opinion. And it would simply be rude for me not to offer one back. Just love the outfit. It just screams," She gestured as Bridget had done for a while, her own smile becoming even more sickeningly sweet. "Hooker."  
  
Unable to think of a witty, scathing comeback, Bridget sighed irratatedly and stalked by with her nose in the air. The Bridget Brigade scurried out with her. The door swung shut and Gracia grinned.  
  
"Score one for the outcasts." she said as they wandered over to the sinks and Keisha began to search through her bag. She hopped up on the space in between the sinks just as Keisha brought out the old book she had been carrying in the library. She sat up next to the Slayer and opened the book as the bell for the start of class sounded. She flicked through the heavy parchment pages, with Gracia watching over her shoulder, until she reached the one marked with a scrap of paper. She removed it and screwed it up.  
  
"Here we are." she announced. "Spike. Also called by the name 'William the Bloody'. Oh look, they have a picture."  
  
Gracia stared at the picture. It showed a man in Victorian clothes, with glasses a little bit like Cecelia's and light brown hair. He seemed quite meek, reminding Gracia of some of the men that were in the class she was supposed to marry into back in the 1750s. Still, he was pretty cute.  
  
"Doesn't look all that bloody to me," was all that she said however. "What else does it say?"  
  
"'Got his nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes. These victims included his own brother.'" Keisha flicked the page, skipping the chunks of information, and turned pale. "Oh god, did they have to..."  
  
"What?" Gracia watched as Keisha's face turned greenish, contorted in disgust.  
  
"Include a picture of his brother. After death." Keisha shifted the book quickly onto Gracia's lap and jumped up. She rushed into one of the cubicles and shut the door.  
  
"You OK?" Gracia frowned worriedly.  
  
"Yeah," Keisha gasped from the cubicle, still sounding desicively sick. "Give me a moment in case I puke. It was NOT a pretty sight."  
  
Gracia glanced quickly at the coroner's photograph of the corpse of the man, pulled a face and flicked back to the first page. She scanned it quickly for any other important information.   
  
'He was Sired' she read, 'In 1880, London, England. His Sire was the insane vampire Drusilla, and he comes from the line of the Master. Notably, his grandsire was Angelus, the vicious Scourge of Europe.'  
  
Gracia now felt sick. Her numb mind buzzed as Keisha returned, looking better and calmer now as she cursed her weak stomach. Her brother had indirectly turned this man into a demon. Had forced him into the cursed life of a night-demon.  
  
"Now it's my turn to worry. What's up?" Keisha jumped back up to her place between the sink and her friend.  
  
"What?" Gracia snapped out from her trance and glanced up wildly. She moved her hand, aiming for casual, over the details about Spike's line of vampires. "Oh sorry. Just thinking. How do I know where this guy is?"  
  
Keisha searched the page and then pointed close to the bottom of it. "Here. It says that Spike and his 'paramour', some girl named Drusilla, came to America about thirty or so years ago. They stopped off at New York where Spike killed a Slayer."  
  
"And here." Gracia pointed to some information close to what her hand was covering. "Spike kills another Slayer in China during the Boxer Rebellion at the turn of the century."  
  
"So he's strong. What else does it say?"  
  
Gracia turned the pages, both girls avoiding the gruesome picture of Spike's mutilated brother. She sighed in irritation.  
  
"Nothing. Spike and Drusilla head for Prague, where Drusilla was believed to have been killed by a mob. They returned to the U.S.A. sometime in the late ninties. That's where it ends." Gracia grimaced. "Cecelia REALLY needs some updated books. How the hell am I meant to find him?"  
  
"Wait." Keisha put a hand to her head, trying hard to remember. "That night in the graveyard..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I...I saw someone. They sorta warned me to look back just as a vampire was about to kill me. When I looked back, they went. Maybe that was him."  
  
"So Spike is probably still in Sunnydale somewhere." Gracia snapped the book shut and handed it to Keisha. "I'll check the graveyards and vamp hangouts tonight. I'll need you to cover for me with Cecelia, possibly my parents if they ask. Dad's on night shift though, and Mum'll probably be too busy looking after Brianna."  
  
"She's really milking this, huh?"  
  
"Well, the kid was injured, but she's fine now. Lounging around on the sofa with the TV on full blast, Scrappy nearby and a carton of neopolitan. So she is a bit. Guess she deserves it though."  
  
"You taking, um, Angel with you?" Keisha turned to put the book away, her hair concealing her flushing cheeks.  
  
Gracia shook her head. "Nuh uh. Can you cover if he asks? Say I'm at home or something similar."  
  
"Will you be OK? I mean, you hardly know what this guy is like." Keisha chewed her lip and fiddled with her hair. "He's killed two Slayers Gracia, what if he's looking to make you his third?"  
  
"Don't worry." Gracia took a deep breath, although nerves had begun to overtake her deep down. "I'll be fine and armed to the teeth." She shot Keisha a confused glance. "Are you sure you heard Cecelia mention this guy?"  
  
Remembering her cover-story for the ghost, Keisha nodded vigorously. "Oh sure. Just...be careful, alright?"  
  
Gracia smiled. "I will. Nothing's going to prevent me from suceeding in anything just now. Maths excluded."  
  
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Ambulo Mortuus raised the stake above the bubbling beaker; with a swift movement of those thin white hands, it snapped cleanly in two. The dark one dropped one piece into the liquid and it fizzed acidly, the frothy bubbles becoming green tinged.  
  
"By the power of the darkness, by the strength of the night, may the forces opposed to her rise once more and increase in their greatness. May she herself and those she loves be struck with great torment, may they become fragile, may they wither in front of her."  
  
Ambulo Mortuus dropped in the pointed end of the broken stake with a dull plop. The forth rose, and the potion hissed and spat evilly.  
  
"So mote it be."  
  
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So, review now and read the next chapter as soon as it's up. In a rush here, it's 11 p.m., and I'm being evicted from this room with the computer in it. Something about having to go to bed, or something like that. See ya's round! 


	11. Meetings and pleadings.

A/N: Well, here it finally is. To find out what I mean, please read on. ;-D Oh, and something else. Whilst I am a B/S fan, and really hope that they will get together properly, they didn't in this fic. Sorry! Please don't kill me!  
  
Disclaimer: Oh please. If I owned Buffy, this would actually be happening, and not just written as a fanfic. **Shakes fist** Damn Joss Whedon.  
  
Dedication: To FanFreak, Charisma Brianne, Jen, and everyone else who has pestered, pleaded, and kept reminding me that they wanted Spike in this fic. Here ya go.  
  
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The vampire was still disorientated from just rising from his grave, but that didn't seem to be holding back any of his new-found powers.  
  
Spike threw a punch at the guy's jaw, knocking him back a bit. The fight was bitter- they always were. He was used to that now.  
  
"C'mon, you pillock," he sneered at the fallen enemy. "Aren't you gonna fight the fight?"  
  
The vampire rose and lunged at Spike, catching him by the throat and tackling him to the ground. His grip tightened, and he prepared to break the bleached vamp's neck. Spike's face transformed to a vampiric mask and he growled as he tried to get away. No use. This guy weighed a ton and a half. He clawed at the hands. Still no use.   
  
Spike had just registered the fact that he was about to die a humiliating death at the hands of some rabid newbie when the vamp let out a yell. He arched his back a bit, released his grip on Spike, and exploded into dust.  
  
A stake clattered off the mausoleum.  
  
Spike sat up, reaching out for the stake with his left hand. He got up, dusting ash from his coat, and wondering where the hell the stake had come from. He didn't have to wait long for his answer.  
  
"Well, that was quite good. I'd say ten points for my team." came a girl's voice from his right.  
  
The vampire turned and saw the speaker sitting casually on a tombstone quite a way off. Frowning in slight confusion, he took a couple of wary steps towards her. He sensed her smile as she raised her hands.  
  
"Give us it here then." He realised that the voice was heavily accented with an Irish lilt.   
  
He threw back the stake and she caught it expertly. The darkness that she had chosen to sit in prevented him from seeing her face that clearly, so he went even closer. She sheathed the stake in her jacket, got up, and began to walk towards him as well.  
  
Eventually, they were about a foot apart. She blinked and raised her eyebrows as a young-looking honey with bleached blonde hair and dressed in black came into view. He didn't seem to be at all like the timid guy in the photo.  
  
He saw a pale, pretty girl of sixteen with large, beautiful dark-brown eyes. She was wearing tight black jeans, an old black jacket, and a form-fitting black top that showed off her slim white shoulders. Her dark brown hair hung straight and loose in a shining veil half-way down her back, and one hand was clasped over the pendant of the silver chain adorning her neck. Then he saw the likenesses all too clearly.  
  
"Angel..." he hissed, half to himself. Contempt for that poofter he was once proud to call his grandsire rose in him again. She seemed to understand.  
  
"I'm his sister, long story," the girl said with a roll of her sweet eyes and a small smile. "Explain later. But I'm Gracia."  
  
"You're a Slayer." he stated bluntly. Of course, nobody but a Slayer could have an aim like that.  
  
"Good guess. And you're a vampire. Spike, I believe?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, wondering what the hell the teenager wanted from him. "What of it?"  
  
Her smile faded and her voice was completely solemn. "I heard about you. I need as many allies as I can get."  
  
"And why should this concern me?"  
  
"I've heard how you changed sides-"  
  
He cut her off angrily. "Yeah, cause some bloody fudgepackers put a soddin' chip in my bloody brain. How else am I supposed to keep from filling an ashtray?"  
  
She remained unfazed and calm. That made him...he didn't know. It unerved him very slightly. He had expected some sort of reaction, but got none.  
  
"So that's what happened. I wondered. Whatever." She shrugged and hugged her jacket closer in an attempt to keep out the cold. "I just want to know if you'll help us. Something bad's going on, and any information is really apreciated."  
  
"How should I know?" Spike was annoyed. He'd come out for some violence, and met the new Slayer. Her bloody confidence and friendliness put him out even more. Then his eyes were drawn to the pendant her hand had revealed. It was a simple silver crucifix, slightly scratched and battered, but unmistakable.  
  
"That's Buffy's." he stated, pointing at it. She glanced at it quickly, confused.  
  
"Huh?" Then she remembered Angel's words at the Bronze. "Oh. Right."  
  
"How come you have it?" he asked through gritted teeth.  
  
"My brother."  
  
"And so Angel the bloody poofter gave you something that belonged to her. What right did he have?"  
  
It pained him still. Although he had been close to Buffy, her heart was never his. She always loved Angel, always would do. But he didn't know about this. All he had were a few old fading photographs and a bunch of memories.  
  
Gracia shrugged. "I don't know. Wasn't here. Look, save your arguments for another time. This is important."  
  
"Why should anything you do concern me?" OK, so his quips weren't as scathing as usual, but being interupted by some tiny teenager when he was fighting had annoyed him greatly. He just wanted her to go back from where she came from and not to bother him ever again.  
  
Gracia knew what he was thinking. That was why she had steered the conversation directly to the point.  
  
"Look, somebody's trying to hurt me with...witchcraft or something, I don't know. They've hurt my little sister badly. She could have died. I need as much help as anyone can give." Her eyes locked with his, serious and penetrating and mysterious.  
  
"It doesn't bother me." Spike said, somewhat cruelly. "Crawl back to your Watcher."  
  
"I don't even know where she is half the time. The other half, she's no help at all." Her eyes widened pleadingly. "Please."  
  
"What're you going to do if I don't?" Spike laughed. "Cry?"  
  
Her face switched to emotionless mode- again, not quite the reaction he was expecting. She shrugged.  
  
"OK. Your decision. You wanna find me, check out the high school library or the Bronze. I'm usually in one of those places." Her lips curved into a smile. He narrowed his eyes, trying to ignore the torrent of conflicting feelings in him.  
  
She turned on her heel and strode away, arms still folded around her to keep out the cold. He watched her go, cursing himself for not striking back with some witty remark.  
  
"Expect nothing," he eventually called, but she disappeared without another glance back, glimmering hair flowing and rippling behind her.  
  
Gracia kept her eyes down as she headed home. She forced her wits to concentrate on her surroundings, and desperately tried to ignore the flipping sensation in her stomach.  
  
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**Coughcough** Sozz, I am REALLY ill today. Pounding headache, throat on fire, painful hacking cough...you wanna make me better? Then review at once please! ;-)   
  
**Coughcough** 


	12. Discoveries.

A/N: Again, I have done another flashback- you'll find it in the first section of the chapter, up to the line of asterisks. It isn't one from Gracia or Angel this time though, it's a scene from Keisha's past. Later on, I'll do one for Luke. I just though that it might be important to let you all in on some of their back story.  
  
Disclaimer: Does anyone bother to read these? **Sigh** Check the other chapters.  
  
Dedication: All my friends who texted me whilst I was off with what we reckoned was laryngitis. You're lifesavers, thanx!  
  
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She knew of nothing except the white duvet pulled over her head, the pillow clamped partially over her ears. It muffled the noise.  
  
If she stayed here, it would be alright. The rally of screamed insults from downstairs needn't exist if she didn't hear them. Her ten-year-old sister Melindria didn't have to be sobbing in the depths of the bed across the room if she stayed as she was, trying to ignore the destruction of her life.  
  
She couldn't. Some horrible feeling forced her to cast aside the pillow and push back the covers, to rise and scramble out of bed.   
  
Six-year-old Keisha Goldsmith tiptoed past the huddle in Mel's bed and out onto the landing. She pattered along the light-blue carpet, carting her rag doll Stephie with her as comfort.  
  
When she reached the last door of the landing by the stairs, a crash accompanied by a yell rent the air. She leapt, startled, but continued partway down the nearby staircase to peer unnoticed through the banisters.  
  
Her mother and father stood six feet apart from each other, both red in the face and furious. A shattered brandy glass, seized from the drinks cabinet, pattered the carpet near where her dad stood. Her mom had obviously hurled it at him in her rage.  
  
"You're a crazy woman, Shauna!" her dad yelled. "You ought to be locked up in a loony bin!"  
  
"Do I really, Ryan?" her mother shrieked. "I want to see you out of this house and out of our lives right now!"  
  
Keisha had always thought that her mother was the prettiest woman ever. Now, with her face flushed scarlet, her golden hair flying into her wild eyes, her flailing fists clenched as her body shook from the force of her shouts, Keisha wasn't so sure. Her mom really was crazy.  
  
"I love my kids too much to let you poison their minds! I want regular access and my fair share in their lives!"  
  
"You don't deserve this family!" Shauna screamed. She panted for breath, obviously running out of shocking, cutting insults. "I'll-I'll divorce you!"  
  
"You'll divorce me?" Ryan Goldsmith laughed, anger seemingly clearing away. He reached out calmly as if to stroke her hair. Shauna slapped his hand away sharply. "Shauna, the day you divorce me will be the happiest day of my life."  
  
Keisha sat there silently as it dawned upon her young mind that there was more loathing in those few quiet words than there had been in any of the previous barbs.  
  
Baby Charlie began to wail from his cot in the other room. Her mom glared levelly at her dad, eyes brimming with a pure, poisonous hatred.  
  
"Get out." she hissed.  
  
Ryan Goldsmith turned as Shauna Goldsmith did. They stalked off across the room in opposite directions. Shauna went through one door to tend to her baby.  
  
Without a backward glance, Ryan Goldsmith opened the front door and walked out of the house forever.  
  
And nobody noticed little Keisha huddled on the steps, tears silently pouring down her cheeks and dripping into Stephie's brown woollen hair.  
  
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Gracia liked gymnastics. She'd liked it even before she'd become the Slayer and found it a lot easier. It was one of her favourite classes, and she refused to skip it whether Cecelia approved or not. Needless to say, she didn't, grumbling about how maybe Gracia should realise that Slaying also entailed hours of meticulous study to improve her mind as well as training to improve her techniques. Luke had then quipped in that Gracia was still single and perhaps needed to improve her dating techniques. This had earned him a playful slap around the head, a glare, and a "You're really one to talk." from Gracia, Cecelia, and Keisha in respective order.  
  
Gracia didn't even want to dwell on the possible prospect of boyfriends for a second. Ever since a couple of nights ago in the graveyard, she'd been surpressing something in the back of her mind, some thought that she knew she shouldn't be having. If having a vampire as your brother was bad enough, what about a vampire as a boyfriend? It went without saying that Cecelia would probably get carted away foaming at the mouth by the men in white coats if that ever happened. Not that it would. She didn't expect to see him again.  
  
But anyway, at least she had a chance to concentrate on gymnastics for now. It was fine mostly when she was occupied with fighting, lessons, or homework, but whenever she had nothing to do, she'd just begin to drift into the old thoughts again. So whilst annoyed teacher stalked around the room, trying to get the majority of the class (who were standing around in chattering groups) to do something 'constructive', Gracia stood at the end of a fairly wide square beam about five feet from the mats on the floor.  
  
She flipped slowly up onto her hands. Easy. She curved her body over backwards, got her feet solidly on the pole, and came up. Simple. She repeated it, focussed intently on every movement.  
  
Time for the third flip. She pushed off onto her hands. Once she was standing on her hands, however, she realised that she had pushed off too hard unknowingly, and, as a result, was wobbling slightly. She steadied herself, and curved over into a bridge, placing her feet firmly on the bar, and pushed herself gently upright. It was then that she knew something was wrong.  
  
The bar was cool and hard under her bare feet one moment. The next moment, just as a pair of firm but air-like hands collided with her shoulder blades, it wasn't there.  
  
She gave a startled yelp, rocked slightly, and toppled off. She crashed onto the mats heavily, her right ankle curled under her body. A second or so after she struck her head on the mats, she blinked and pulled herself up into a half-seated position. To find the twins hurrying over to her, along with the gym instructor from the other side of the room, and also to find the entire class staring at her.  
  
Luke and Keisha crouched on either side of her. "You OK?" Luke asked worriedly. "Man, that was some fall."  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Gracia groaned as she sat up fully, putting a hand to her lower back. "Think it's just a bruise."  
  
"Careful, careful!" the gym teacher said, kneeling in front of her. "Now, why did you fall?"  
  
Gracia shrugged as best she could with the back pain. "Dunno. Slipped, I guess." Suddenly, her right foot began to burn with pain, and she shifted it gently out from underneath her.  
  
Keisha took one look at the limb and winced away. "Gees, that is gonna hurt."  
  
"Already does." Gracia gritted her teeth as she peered at it herself. She must be heavier than she had thought. It had flushed red, and would probably be bruised and swollen later on.  
  
"Get her to the nurse." The teacher said, shifting the twins out of the way briefly to help Gracia stand up. "Luke and Keisha Goldsmith, you can take her."  
  
Supporting her on either side, the twins helped the Slayer to limp painfully from the gym. The silent, staring class parted like the Red Sea as they came through. Her pale cheeks began to blush when she realised that absolutely everybody had seen her muck up her flips. And of course, Fate had to be extra cruel in securing the fact that Bridget Hadley, complete with nasty smirk and the 'everybody will hear of this before the next class' glint in her eyes, would be the last person between them and the door. She lingered a while longer than she should, not quite catching the triple death glares.  
  
"Miss Hadley, please move yourself." The gym instructor snapped.  
  
The cheerleader gave a little sigh, another smirk at the three outcasts, and drifted slowly back to her little gang. Keisha glanced back to give her an obscene hand gesture when nobody was looking.  
  
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Keisha had been so busy for the last few days, with one thing and another, that she hadn't found the time to read the other book that she had taken from the library. At least she hadn't been having those weird dreams since she met the...ghost. Or whatever it had been.  
  
Still, she had time now. She was hidden in the depths of the bookshelves, where the volumes muffled the sound of Gracia and Luke's chatter from the tables. Cecelia wasn't around. Sometimes she just wasn't. She'd usually appear when they least suspected it, demanding to know why Gracia wasn't training.  
  
Keisha glanced around from where she sat cross-legged on the floor one last time just to check nobody could see her. Idiot, her mind hissed. Of course no one would be watching what she was doing, questioning her choice of reading material. Thank god for that. What would they say? Luke would probably just laugh and joke about it...for the next twenty years of her life. Gracia would want to know why she was reading it, and Keisha didn't want the Slayer to think that she was going mad when her unbelieveable tale was told.  
  
Slowly, she prised open the cover and peeled back a couple of the first pages. The pages, she found, were all full of elegantly shaped script and delicate diagrams, scratched in fading black ink on a parchment like substance. She squinted her eyes towards the first sentence and struggled to decipher the words there.  
  
All...illusions of the...sleeping...mind have some...hidden meaning.  
  
Keisha raised an eyebrow. This could take a lot longer than she had first anticipated. Maybe discovering what her dreams meant wouldn't be so very easy. Why couldn't somebody have used a computer to write this? Was her life always supposed to be this hard?  
  
She had just turned her thoughts back to the book when the quiet level of noise was broken by Gracia, with a "Hey Angel."  
  
Keisha started and almost dropped the book. She hadn't heard Angel come in at all, so how had Gracia? Maybe something to do with not being surrounded by books. Keisha hid the book once again in her rucksack, got up and paced quietly towards the rest of them, tucking stray strands of reddish hair behind her ears nervously. She heard Angel greet her friends, then ask, "What happened to you Gracey?"  
  
Gracey. That was a weird nickname, and Keisha wondered where it had come from. But still, it wasn't really her business. And anyway, it was now completely obvious that Angel had seen Gracia's bare ankle propped up on the table under an ice pack. Keisha was in two minds of what to do- should she stay where she was, not have to face probably making a prat of herself in front of Angel, and curse herself for her shyness for the rest of night, or she could face all of those problems right now.  
  
She took a deep breath and stepped out, walking over to lean on the railing. She studied the scene below- Luke and Gracia were sitting opposite each other at the table, and Angel was standing near his sister, a half worried, half angry expression on his face.  
  
"Hey," she said softly, not wanting to break the quiet. Angel glanced up and gave the very tiniest of hints of a smile. Her heart thudded against her rib cage with the force of a freight truck.  
  
"Hi Keisha." He turned back to Gracia. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"  
  
Gracia sighed and raised her eyebrows. "I fell off the gymnastics bar. Or was pushed. Take your pick."  
  
"Pushed?" Luke frowned. "There was no one else up there. Only you."  
  
"That's what it looked like, but somebody gave me a light shove. Just as the beam sorta...I dunno, evaporated under my feet." She looked at their skeptical, confused expressions and sighed. "I know it sounds incredulous, but that's what happened."  
  
"Are you sure?" Keisha asked. "Because Luke's right-"  
  
"Aren't I always?"  
  
"Shut up. You were the only person up there, nobody could have pushed you."  
  
"Gracey, it doesn't matter. So you tripped and fell. Doesn't mean that you're no good at it."  
  
"Unless it was the same thing as happened to Brianna." Gracia pulled a helpless face. "Oh, I dunno. I just know that something's wrong here."  
  
A voice interrupted from the doorway- a voice with a cockney accent.  
  
"Yeah, probably the tall dark poofter standing in the way. Doesn't add a lot to the décor."  
  
Four heads snapped around to see a bleach-blonde vampire dressed in black saunter in with a cocky grin. Angel growled. What the hell was his grandchilde doing here? They hadn't seen each other since Faith's death.  
  
Gracia rolled her eyes as Spike wandered over. "Hello, Spike."  
  
Angel looked at her, a mixture of shock and hurt in his eyes. "You know him?"  
  
Spike directed his grin to the souled vampire. "Hey granddaddy, long time no torture."  
  
Luke was watching silently as usual. Keisha knew that, on some deep level, he was assessing the situation as best he could. She, meanwhile, was spectating with her usual confusion at these scenes, but was more interested in the newcomer. So this was Spike. How? He looked nothing like the picture.   
  
Gracia appeared to be struggling with her explanation. She hadn't exactly practiced it, because she hadn't expected to see Spike for a long time. "Yes. I met him a few nights ago."  
  
"You met him in the graveyard?" Angel's eyes flared at Spike. "You can keep away from her, Spike."  
  
"I'll have you know that she approached me." Spike smirked at Gracia. "Isn't that right, Slayer?"  
  
Gracia became aware of four pairs of eyes staring straight at her as she averted her gaze to her foot. Eventually, she answered, "That's true."  
  
When she looked up at Angel, she saw the pain that was ever-present in his eyes magnified. It was hard to meet his gaze, but she managed it for a few seconds before her eyes dropped again. Then she looked at Spike, who was obviously loving the fact that Angel felt so betrayed.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She raised an eyebrow. "I thought that you didn't need anybody."  
  
Spike seemed to not be able to find an answer for a moment, and he glared at her. Finally, he answered, "So? This could be a social visit." He looked at Angel. "Catching up with old enemies."  
  
Angel now spoke, his voice dangerous and low. "Spike, get the hell out of here before I kill you."   
  
Spike snorted. "That supposed to scare me?"  
  
"No, it's supposed to warn you." Angel advanced. "Get. Out. Now." He picked Spike up by his leather duster, carried him over the room, and threw him out of the low window. Only Spike heard the next words that Angel uttered, as Spike got up from the pile of shattered glass.  
  
"Stay away from my sister."  
  
Angel turned and went back over to the teenagers. Luke's eyes had widened slightly, whereas Keisha's were almost the size of saucers. Gracia, on the other hand, looked guilty, but just raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Wow," she muttered. "Principal Walker is just gonna love us for that window."  
  
"Gracey, we need to talk." Angel interrupted. "Alone."  
  
The twins got the obvious hint straight away. Luke got up and Keisha came down the stairs, and together they walked over to the door. Just before leaving, they turned back.  
  
"Gracia, will you be OK for getting home?" Luke asked.  
  
Gracia nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll be OK."  
  
"Great. See you." They left, and after the door shut, silence reigned unchallenged for a second, a minute, two minutes...  
  
"Why?" Angel eventually asked. "Why did you have to do that?"  
  
"So I tried to get some more help." Gracia stared helplessly at him. "That's all."  
  
Angel lowered his voice. "Do you know what I did to that guy?" he asked.  
  
She nodded, her voice also soft but clear. "Your childe made him what he is."  
  
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Out in the corridor near the exit, Keisha slapped her forehead.  
  
"What?" Luke questioned.  
  
"Damn it, forgot my bag. I'll catch you up, 'K?" Before he could answer, Keisha was sprinting back the way they had come.  
  
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Angel frowned slightly in pain. "I tortured him. I hurt him. I made his existence a misery. And I thought it was great fun."  
  
Gracia was feeling numb with all of this information. She knew that her brother had been one of the most terrible demons around in his heyday, but it was so hard to accept. Even when she had been one of his victims herself.   
  
"I don't care." she whispered. "Not your fault. She," Gracia couldn't bear to even think about Darla, and she spat out 'she' quickly to get the word out of her mouth. "Made you that."  
  
Nobody noticed the door open very slightly and very quietly as Keisha returned. Keisha took the momentary silence as a good sign that she could come in, and opened the door a bit more, but paused when Angel spoke.  
  
"But you don't understand." he said. "I asked her to show me her world. I asked to become a vampire."  
  
Keisha froze when she heard those words, and her heart broke silently.  
  
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Oooh, cliffhanger! Anyways, please review. I'd like you to please comment on the flashback as well, 'cause I'd like to know what y'all reckon. Thanx a lot. 


	13. As We Draw Closer...

A/N: I'm on holiday this week, so I've been stuck here writing (whole week, total bliss!) and avoiding the Dreaded Revision Books. Anyways, been listening to my new Westlife album as well, it sure kicks...**notices younger sibling watching the screen**...ah, posterior. Good grief, did I swallow a dictionary again?  
  
Disclaimer: Je ne no comprehende (excuse poor spelling, reckon u get the point anyways.)  
  
Dedication: To everybody texting me this past week. ;-) Thanx for keeping me insane.  
  
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Zachary was not the happiest of vampires, and the others were watching him with extreme caution. Apart from Ambulo Mortuus, as calm and scornful as ever.  
  
"You perform a big spell." Zachary said as he paced in front of them all. "Get out all the big black magic mojo, try to scare us with your rituals and rites of passage. And what happens?"  
  
Nobody answered- the question was almost certainly rhetorical. Ambulo Mortuus met his gaze levelly and collectedly from the face concealed by the hood of the shroud that was always worn.  
  
"What happens?" Zachary yelled, finally letting loose. Ambulo Mortuus stayed completely still. Zachary caught the thin left arm of the shrouded one in a supernaturally painful grip, as though determined to break the bone under the sleeve and thin skin. "I asked you a question!"  
  
"What happens, Zachary," Ambulo Mortuus answered evenly. "Is exactly what was supposed to happen."  
  
"What? The Slayer twists her ankle. Her baby sister cuts herself. You promised us ultimate pain! You have lied and failed!" Zachary's voice started off mocking, but approached anger rapidly again.  
  
"The spell must be strengthened at the next full moon. It shall be so. Also, had nobody else been around when these injuries occurred, I promise you that they should have been more fatal."  
  
"Then make them more so!"  
  
"The incantation controls what happens. We cannot decide who is hurt, when they are, and how they are." Ambulo Mortuus sneered. "I would have thought that one as great as you should have realised that."  
  
The vampire growled, and turned to the assembled vamps watching. "Is there any more news of the whereabouts of the Book of Amora?" He glared at Ambulo Mortuus briefly, golden eyes sparking with dislike and anger. "At least let's get that right."   
  
The first one to step forward was a girl with long red hair and a face contorted vampiricly. She was watched closely by everyone, but her gaze was in turn quite unsteady and wary.  
  
"My patrol followed the orders but found nothing." she eventually said. Zachary regarded her with contempt, deciding that she would be the object of expressing his hatred of Ambulo Mortuus. He couldn't take it out on the witch because he feared the full vengeful extent of those powers. He raised an eyebrow and nobody spoke until the vamp girl plucked up enough courage to explain.  
  
"I believe," she said, shooting a quick glance at Ambulo Mortuus, "That the instructions given were false."  
  
Zachary saw his chance to pounce. "False they may have been." He too glanced venomously at the impassive guest, before returning in his mock-friendly attitude to the girl. "But surely it was also aided by your complete incompetence, Tanna."  
  
His heavy hand shot out and grabbed a large handful of her thick mane, twisted it quickly around his hand, and yanked it sharply towards him. Her head followed and she stumbled with a high yelp.  
  
"Tanna," he hissed. "How old are you?" She swallowed hard and whimpered involuntarily, knowing how violent and whimsical the leader could be.  
  
"In...including my years before," she stuttered, referring to her human life, "I am about twenty."  
  
"In all my four hundred and fifty three years as a vampire, never have I encountered such a snivelling, pathetic excuse for a demon as yourself." He shoved her away sharply and she fell awkwardly into a heap at his feet, breathing hard as she may have done when alive.  
  
"See?" Zachary cried. "You even breath like those that we eat! How did you get to be a patrol leader?"  
  
"Our one was killed during the graveyard battle against the Slayer, Angelus, and their friends." she muttered. "We fought for the title and I won."  
  
"If it was a contest in feebleness," Zachary sneered. "Then I am not surprised that you were the victor. I should be the one to chose a new leader of the patrol. You aren't fit to be in the ranks of the Anointed One. Get out of my sight, Tanna."  
  
Tanna picked herself up from the floor and limped back into the sea of demons, glaring fiercely at all those who looked at her, some in disgust and some in loathing, mainly because they couldn't believe her stupidity at saying something clearly displeasing when Zachary was in a bad mood.  
  
"Anyone else have bad news for me?" Zachary asked, voice almost deafening in the ringing silence. "Any other fool wish to argue with my ways?"  
  
Of course, nobody answered. A slow, evil grin contorted Zachary's mouth. "Good." he said, half to himself. He prowled through the gathering, the vampires parting like the Red Sea to allow him through. His vision swung around them all until he saw who he was searching for and stopped.  
  
"Lee." he said. A male vampire with longish golden hair stepped forward and bowed slightly as a sign of respect and loyalty. "I believe you have something to tell me?"  
  
Lee smirked, obviously proud of himself. "Indeed I do. As Ambulo Mortuus provided us with, we know that the whereabouts of the Book of Amora exist in detail in scriptures somewhere in Sunnydale. And I know where to find them."  
  
"And where would that be?" Zachary leaned further down towards Lee, mind caught up in his greedy desires to raise his master.  
  
And when Lee whispered to him where they were, he laughed.  
  
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Not long at all, but the next part should be here soon. Please review. Thanks! ;-D 


	14. Why didn't we know?

A/N: Here it is, another chapter, and thank you for your nice reviews! Gees, my English teacher would kill me for using the adjective 'nice'...  
  
Disclaimer: :-P Whadda ya reckon?  
  
Dedication: All of you! Your reviews brighten up my day!  
  
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For three days now, Keisha had found it too hard to concentrate on much- be it schoolwork, watching T.V., hanging out in the Bronze, talking to Luke and Gracia...  
  
She was still feeling numbed inside. Angel, a vampire? How could it be like that? How come he was good, when all vampires were supposed to be bad? Was he just acting good to avoid Gracia staking him or did he want to destroy the group from the inside? How could someone evil seem so genuinely kind and sweet?  
  
Her mum constantly nagged her to eat something, to empty her plates into her stomach, not the bin. Keisha couldn't. She wasn't hungry, didn't feel anything. Luke asked why she didn't reply to his banter. Keisha couldn't. She wasn't in the mood. Charlie wanted to know why she didn't object to him switching the T.V. channels from the film she was trying to watch to a football game. Keisha couldn't. She wasn't paying attention. Gracia wondered aloud why she hadn't come back to Bridget's insults with some quip that was both scathing and witty. Keisha couldn't. Her mind was all too occupied with Angel, Angel, Angel, to think about arguments.  
  
She sat there in the library, watching Luke and Gracia laughing about something as they came and sat on the opposite side of the table to her. Gracia leaned over and asked her something. Keisha stared at her blankly, not even interested in what her friend had queried.   
  
"Keisha?" Gracia's voice called from a seemingly long distance. "Keisha, hello?"  
  
Luke said something to her, probably telling her of some incident at home. Gracia nodded worriedly and turned back to her.  
  
"Keisha, are you OK?"  
  
Keisha stood up abruptly, feeling the urgent need to be anywhere but here. The chair almost toppled backwards in her haste.  
  
"Sure, sure, fine." she assured them as she slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up her remaining books in her arms. "I'm absolutely fine."  
  
She could feel her brother and her friend watching her carefully as she stalked quickly out of the room. As soon as she was around the corner, she sighed a little. It felt better to be alone again. Just so much easier not to have to make the effort to listen or respond or do anything. Eventually, she reached a side exit and went out of the doors, shutting them behind her softly.  
  
"Hello, Keisha."  
  
Keisha jumped at the familiar, quiet voice and whirled around to see Angel standing at the bottom of the stairs between them with his usual sweet half-smile. She blinked and tried to slow her startled breathing.  
  
"Sorry if I scared you." he apologised. "I didn't mean to."  
  
"No. No, it's OK, you didn't scare me." She hugged her books closer, sudden doubt consuming her mind. She had heard wrong. Angel wasn't dangerous, he couldn't be evil, he couldn't be...one of them. She smiled back and began to walk down the long set of steps towards him. "You came here to see Gracia, right?"  
  
"Yeah. She hasn't gone out patrolling yet, has she?"  
  
"No, she decided to leave it a little while till..." It seemed harder to say what she wanted now, but she forced the words out. "There are more vampires out."  
  
Angel gave something close to a small laugh. "Cecelia won't like that."  
  
Keisha made sure her smile was still there. "Cecelia won't know. She hasn't been around today."  
  
"How come?" Angel was intrigued now, maybe even a little suspicious. Keisha was about to reply that she didn't know when it happened.  
  
Her foot, which was about to go down, suddenly caught on something- some kind of block or small barrier.She overbalanced with a scream and the books flew out of her arms. Then she struck the staircase, the right side of her lower back hitting the next step. She rolled and collided with the next and then the next. She cried out again in pain.   
  
After a shocked second, Angel put his fast reflexes to use and dived out, catching Keisha in his strong arms. He crashed into the steps, bruising his ribs in the process.  
  
For a dazed couple of moments, they stayed where they were. Keisha was all too aware of how close she was to Angel, but told herself that least she knew that he couldn't be a vamp now. He was breathing hard, just like she was. This she repeated over and over in her perplexed mind.  
  
Angel looked at her worriedly as she frowned in pain and her left hand went slowly up to the left side of her forehead to gingerly touch it. She groaned softly. He gently eased her up so that they were both sitting, side by side, on the step.   
  
"Keisha?" he asked softly. "Let me see your head."  
  
"No." Her voice was also soft as she protested, but she still allowed Angel to lightly move her hand from her head. "No, I'll be fine."  
  
He had to stop himself from gasping at what he saw. Somewhere in her violent descent of the staircase, the side of her head had struck the corner of a step and become cut. He glanced at her hand and saw it was covered with an early layer of the blood now trickling down her cheek. Keisha appeared to just about be starting to come around to reality.  
  
"Keisha, we have to get you inside." Angel said carefully and clearly, not quite sure how comprehensible Keisha's mind was working.  
  
She tried to nod but found it hurt her head more to do so. She rubbed at her forehead with her right hand, screwing her eyes shut in hurt. "Yeah. Right." She stood up slowly, Angel standing up with her for support. Keisha took a deep breath and eased away from Angel. "I'm OK. I'll be fine." She swayed slightly and his arm shot out around her waist to steady her. She leaned heavily on him as he half-carried her back into the school and towards the library. Within a minute, they were walking through the doors, attracting the attention of both Gracia and Luke, who were still sitting at the table talking.  
  
Gracia gasped as she got up quickly and rushed over. Luke sat there, gaping in a stunned silence at his drowsy sister.  
  
"What the hell happened, Angel?" Gracia demanded anxiously, putting Keisha's free arm around her to help support her. "Why is she bleeding?"  
  
"She's bleeding?" Luke asked, getting up as they sat Keisha in one of the free chairs. "What happened?"  
  
"She fell down the stairs." Angel looked at his panicking sister grimly. "Or was pushed."  
  
Luke swore and Gracia bit her lip, turning to him. "Luke, there should be a first-aid kit somewhere around here. Can you find it?"  
  
"Where would it be?" he asked as Gracia studied Keisha's wound herself.  
  
"Try Cecelia's office. Quick." Gracia turned to Angel. "Tell me the whole story."  
  
Luke raced into Cecelia's dim office as Angel began to pour out the whole tale and flicked on the light switch. The room was instantly bathed in a bright glow and he began his search of the immaculate room. Where would a first-aid kit be kept? There was a filing cabinet- he could probably outrule that first off. His troubled turquoise eyes scanned the few shelves quickly. No, no luck there. Then there was a desk, with a few neat folders of notes and a tray of orderly papers. Nothing.   
  
But there was a drawer also, and he pulled it open rapidly. Then stopped. It contained a large black box, obviously locked but what he was looking for, and a clear, smooth globe of crystal. Probably a paper weight- his elder sister Mel had one like it in her college dorm. There were a couple of candles that appeared to have been used, a packet of incense sticks, and two or three small old books, the titles of which seemed to be in some ancient incomprehendable language. He slammed it shut and whirled around. Then he spotted the white box on top of the filing cabinet- his panic had obviously caused him to overlook it. He snatched it up and went back out to the main library.  
  
Gracia nodded at him as he put it down onto the table and opened it, pulling out cotton wool, antiseptic wipes and a head bandage. She set about cleaning and binding Keisha's cut.  
  
"Luke?" Keisha asked, voice sounding a little lost and high.  
  
"I'm right here." He said, taking her right hand and squeezing it in support. "You're gonna be fine."  
  
Keisha tried to turn her head towards Gracia, but found she couldn't as her friend was busy cleaning up the blood from her fce. Her eyes darted between the Slayer and Angel, who was watching her with sorrow in his dark eyes.  
  
"Luke's right for once, Keisha," Gracia attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. "You'll be OK. You're lucky this wasn't worse."  
  
Keisha closed her eyes, trying to remember something and to forget the pain. Suddenly, her eyes opened as she remembered.  
  
Remembered how icy cold Angel's skin was. Remembered what she had heard.  
  
She pulled away from Gracia to look at her properly. She glanced at Angel and then back at Gracia. The Slayer watched her apprehensively, wondering what was coming next. She didn't have long to wait.  
  
"When were you going to tell us?" she asked quietly, shaking her head slowly so as not to intensify the pain.  
  
There was a pause, during which the Irish siblings exchanged a glance. "Tell you what?" Gracia asked eventually.  
  
Keisha looked at Angel sadly. "When did you want us to know that he was a vampire?"  
  
Luke started. "What?"  
  
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Hate ta leave ya there...;-D Review plz, just luv reviews. More Spike next chapter PROBABLY...don reckon you need the whole Angel explination again, so we get more Spike! ;-D **big grin** I'll be working on the corrections for Grace McCormick's Diary this week so I can re-upload, but I'll try to get the next chapter done for the weekend. 


	15. Nearer yet Further.

A/N: Thanx to my exams comin' up, how much of this I can upload and how frequently may decline until I'm totally free of them...couple of months now. Just so you're forewarned.  
  
Disclaimer. Three words: So. Sue. Me.  
  
Dedication: To all of YOU guys out there who r/r my fics. Luv the reviews!  
  
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Spike was walking through the graveyard close to midnight- alone, of course. But he was fine with that.  
  
It had been a pretty quiet night all in all. He'd only encountered one vamp and that one was attempting to lure its prey- a bookish-looking girl of about twenty- away so it could feed. He'd managed convince the girl to flee before staking the vamp after a short fight. It really didn't seem worth it, being out here awaiting fights that would never come, and he was just about to head for his crypt when somebody spoke.  
  
In an Irish accent.  
  
"So, you have any ideas yet on who's doing this witchcraft?"  
  
He almost started but managed to stop himself in time. He turned to see the Slayer walking beside him with a smile on her face directed at him. He stopped in irritation- irritation at how he hadn't noticed her approach. She stopped too, her expression becoming mischevious as she realised what he was thinking.  
  
"What the bloody hell do you want?" he demanded angrily.  
  
She shrugged, and he noticed for the first time the stake she was casually twirling between her fingers. "Nothing. Just patrolling and decided to say hi."  
  
"Go patrol some other place, this is my ground."  
  
She laughed slightly. "How? And you think I intended on seeing you tonight? No, just a lucky coincidence I guess."  
  
"My crypt is in this cemetary. Go patrol somewhere else."  
  
"What can I say?" Her smile became wry. "I tried and the vampires don't wanna come out to play tonight."  
  
"Why does that lead to me putting up with you?"  
  
Offense flashed through Gracia's eyes. "You shouldn't speak to a lady like that." She deliberately sounded more like a stuck-up nobleman's daughter than a highschool student.  
  
Spike smirked. "No need to get all hoity-toity. What century are you from?"  
  
He'd meant it as an insult, but she answered it like it was a serious question. "Eighteenth, actually. Born in 1737, died in 1753." She looked at him with a small smile as she recalled her past life. "At least you don't find it as hard to believe as the twins did."  
  
"So, your little friends know about it now?" Spike was more interested than he allowed himself to sound. "What they do? Chase you with torches and pitchforks?"  
  
She laughed. "Not quite. But if you don't know much about the demonic world, imagine how hard it is to accept something like that." She shrugged. "They need time to think it over. They've only known for two days."  
  
There was a short silence in which they just watched each other. Then Spike decided to speak up.   
  
"Where's your big brother then? Not doing the protective act tonight, then?"  
  
"He's not here." Spike saw something in her face, some measure of worry and sisterly fear. "Haven't seen him since...well, since Luke and Keisha found out about him being a vampire." She smirked a bit. "Why, not scared of him, are you?"  
  
"You realise how bloody stupid you sound?"  
  
"Sure." There was just the smallest hint of sarcasm in her voice, just enough to annoy him. "You realise you've got onto the level of sharing insults with my sister Brianna?"  
  
He just glared at her, and she returned his look impishly. Suddenly, a noise not so far away triggered off both the vampiric and Slayer senses, and they both turned towards where it had come from. There was another, something like very low voices, coming from the same place. After exchanging another, somewhat quizzical, glance, Spike and Gracia crept quietly forward, following the noise.  
  
They came across another expanse of graves, most of them slightly older than the ones they'd left behind, screened off from where they had stood by a row of trees. These trees masked them from whoever it was as the Slayer and the vampire searched for them.  
  
Then Gracia saw them. Five or six vampires scrabbling at the earth heaped on a grave, seemingly near the end of their task. Judging by their expressions and tones of voice, Gracia could tell they were quite annoyed at something or someone. She grabbed Spike's wrist beside her and pointed them out to him as she listened to their conversation.  
  
"I don't see why Zachary couldn't have had Ambulo Mortuus obtain this for us." one vamp hissed. "Why should we scrape away in the mud for something a simple spell could get for us?"  
  
"Shut up, Iain," the vampire next to him whispered angrily. "Zachary picked us to get this, our lives depend on its retrival."  
  
"Didn't know you feared him so much Kenwin." A girl vampire was the next speaker, jeering as she tossed aside clods of dirt. "And Ambulo Mortuus...what do any of us know? Maybe Old Mysterious ain't as powerful as they all made them out to be."  
  
"All of you, hush!" The obvious leader had cut in, leaning down into the grave and pulling out something. "Here it is! We have the scriptures!"  
  
Gracia had decided that now was the time to make her presence known. She let go of Spike's wrist and slipped out of the plants, clutching her stake hard.  
  
"Gees, and I thought you could've all said your goodbyes at the funeral." she mocked. They all looked up abruptly, and five (except the leader) rose to their feet, snarling. They charged and she leapt out of their way.  
  
As she was beating one particular toughie into submission, she became aware that Spike was fighting too. The idea of somebody actually fighting with her against the vampires that she feared the motives of made her feel a lot more confident. She plunged the stake through the guy's heart and he collapsed into ashes.  
  
Together, it didn't take Spike and Gracia long to defeat the vamps and they found themselves in a silent graveyard once more. Gracia was about to say something, to thank him or anything, when a shadow of unease crossed her mind.  
  
Frowning, she turned and counted the piles of dust. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five piles of dead demon.  
  
How many vampires had there been? She wasn't too sure. Spike noticed her recounting.  
  
"What?"  
  
She turned her dark brown eyes up to him perplexedly. "How many vamps were there?"  
  
Spike shrugged, thinking back. "I dunno...six?"  
  
"Six?" Gracia queried doubtfully, chewing her lip as she took a third recount.   
  
"That's what I said."  
  
Then Gracia's eyes flew wider open in horrified realisation and she twisted slowly to view the grave.  
  
Nothing.   
  
The vampire leader had fled during the distraction with the scriptures.  
  
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Hope ya liked it! Review if you did, aw heck, review even if ya didn't! **Shrugs** I ain't gonna stop ya! Cheers! 


	16. Research sucks.

A/N: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! Pop Idol is back on tonight!!! And even if Will DID win...they're still showing Gareth Gates singing! ;-D He was the one I voted for like 3 times...and then there was this whole campaign...**shakes head** it was weird, but very funny!  
  
Disclaimer: Ho hum, not mine!!!  
  
Dedication: All my mates, luv yas!  
  
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"Zachary." Keisha repeated, trying out the name. It was quite strange. "So this guy's name is Zachary."  
  
"That's right." Gracia sighed, dumping the next pile of books onto the table in the only spare space- in front of Luke. He raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Wow, and I thought homework was bad." he muttered, taking the first book from the top of the pile.  
  
Keisha slid from the table and into a seat with a smirk. "That's alright, we don't expect such a dumb blonde to be able to handle heavy studying."  
  
Luke's eyebrows now threatened to disappear off the top of his head. "Oh, so says the girl who needed three days of cram revision for a short Biology test."  
  
"Guys, guys!" Gracia said, deciding to step in as referee before the bickering escalated. Two pairs of aqua eyes turned to her. "Please, issue at hand."  
  
There were two "sorry"s as each of the trio reached for a different book and silent searching ensued. However, it was not long before the stillness was broken by a sardonic voice from the doorway of the office.  
  
"So you've decided that a little project is in order. I know that we should all be grateful that you have blessed us with spending your time actually studying, but trawling through manuscripts for some abstract vampire character."  
  
Gracia didn't even look up as she flicked through the pages of the book. "You know, we're just saying good morning nowadays. It's a little less formal."  
  
"And he might not be as 'abstract' as you think, Cecelia," Luke said, shooting her a glance before looking at the expectant girls and smirking at Keisha. "Score one for the 'dumb blonde'."  
  
"Luke," Keisha snapped. "Hurry up and tell us what you've found before your ego grows any larger."   
  
Luke looked down at the book on his lap and began to read it aloud. Cecelia started to prowl stealthily closer, arms folded and expression sour, so that they wouldn't hear her.  
  
"'Zachary, Sired in 1673 by the Master. A particularly strong vampire who proved himself to be a useful member of the Brethren of Aurelius when he worked for over a century as an assassin of traitorous vampires and demons not allied to them. The amount he himself Sired remains unknown, but he is known to have travelled the world, spreading havoc wherever he went.'" Luke broke off, looking back up at them. "Can anyone translate that for me? It's pretty much all doom and gloom."  
  
"What else does it say?" asked Gracia.  
  
Luke glanced back down at the book and was about to continue reading when Cecelia pulled the book from his hands and snapped it shut.  
  
"Gracia!" she barked. "It is time for you to start your physical training! Leave this idle task at once!"  
  
Gracia quirked an eyebrow with heavy sarcasm as a result of deep annoyance. "So you want me to...?"  
  
Cecelia's nostrils flared until Luke could have sworn you could probably stick two golf balls up them with ease. Her voice was quieter now, as dangerously poisonous as the look in her narrowed grey eyes was.  
  
"Do not irk me, child, for it is you who will suffer the consequences. Now get up and do as I say!"  
  
Gracia glared at her for a moment; then, realising that she had no choice, sighed and slammed her tome shut, dumping it on the table. She got up from her seat and stormed past the pale Watcher to the weapons closet, which she flung open and seized two long daggers from a shelf inside. Twirling them expertly around her fingers, she watched Cecelia glancing critically over the books. She mimed throwing them at the English librarian's back, earning sniggers from the twins that evaporated under the woman's steely gaze.  
  
"You two will clear up this mess then leave immediately for your classes." she ordered, turning to the innocent-eyed Slayer and stalking towards her for another session of heavily-disparaged training.   
  
The twins exchanged glances and Luke motioned Keisha to do as they were told. Picking up some books each, they went deep into the stacks where nobody could see or hear them.   
  
Eventually, when Luke thought it was safe, he said, "What is Cecelia's problem?"  
  
"Uh, bad attitude, terrible fashion sense, and a huge hatred complex." Keisha answered, ticking them off on her fingers. "Why, what else?"  
  
"No, I mean..." He sighed, wondering how to explain it. He eventually optioned for the straightforward approach. "It's almost like...like she didn't want us to find out about this Zachary dude."  
  
Keisha frowned in thought. "Yeah, I know. Wonder why?"  
  
"We could get more brainier than her?"  
  
Keisha smiled, suppressing her laughter as she replied playfully, "Don't think you'll ever be brainy, not after sixteen years as a cretin."  
  
Little did they know, but Gracia's mind wasn't concentrating on drop kicks and roundhouse punches. She, too, was confused as to why the Watcher seemed not to want them to research Zachary.  
  
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Willow Rosenberg sat cross-legged on the floor beside her bedroom bookcase in a house in Boston. She was also researching but her subject was not vampires.  
  
It was dark magic.  
  
After receiving a phone call from Angel five days ago, she had done little else but study the numerous evil spells that could have been cast upon the new Slayer and her associates. A list of all the happenings sat next to her as she struggled to read through the huge volume of possibilities. Her diminishing concentration got a welcome break when a voice broke the reverie.  
  
"Honey? Are you OK?"  
  
Willow looked up to see Tara walking towards her, a concerned expression on her face as she sat next to Willow. Willow managed a small smile as she reached out and clutched Tara's hand.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just difficult, you know..."  
  
Tara nodded understandingly. She had also been seeking possible answers to the problems in Sunnydale, but to no avail. The list was still hopelessly long, but defining it as the wrong spell could be fatal. They were both quite stressed, having not slept much in ages.  
  
"Willow, you've hardly eaten in the past few days. Do you want me to get you something?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "No, no, I'll be fine. I..." She trailed off with a heavy sigh. "I don't know. I just feel useless."  
  
Tara moved over to hug her girlfriend. "Oh sweetie, you're not useless. You've been working so hard."  
  
Willow leaned against Tara, closing her eyes. "But I still can't find anything."  
  
"Willow, we have so many huge books on magic. To find anything would take awhile. Do you see what I'm saying?"  
  
The redhead nodded, pulling away from Tara's arms and sitting upright again. "Yeah. I know that I'm doing all that is humanly possible for me, but I just wish that I could be of more use."  
  
Tara rubbed Willow's back consolingly. "Come and have a break. When you're refreshed properly, I'll help you look. OK?"  
  
Willow nodded and Tara smiled. Willow returned it, slightly happier. "That's my girl. Come on then."  
  
The two women left the room, hand in hand. Hush reigned for a moment before one of the tomes toppled off of the hastily stacked shelf and fell to the carpet with a thump. It was a huge thing, quite dusty, with a gilded title reading 'MAGICKS OF DARKNESS'.  
  
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Spike had nothing to do that day except sit with a bottle of alcohol thinking. Thinking about how his life had changed in three encounters.  
  
After Buffy had died for a second time and the messengers of the Powers That Be forbade her resurrection, his despair had driven him to leaving town for six months. For that half of the year, he travelled, expecting to find some kind of help in any town, yet knowing it wouldn't come.  
  
Who was he sounding like know, Angel the bloody poofter?  
  
They had all cried when Buffy died, even Spike and Faith, right there in front of each other. But the worst thing, the most awful thing of all, is that nobody knew just how much he loved her. Not even Buffy- at least, that's what he had thought most of the time. They expected Angel's pain to somehow be more than his.  
  
Bloody poofter got the girl, whilst Spike was stuck watching from the sidelines. Story of his life.  
  
He had returned to Sunnydale, but preferred to spend time away from the Scoobies. He didn't brood exactly- it wasn't in the demon part of his nature- but time alone allowed him to think about Buffy, about all the time they had had together. About how he had felt, knowing that she was still into Angel.  
  
And now he had met the other Slayer- Gracia. She was different to Buffy and Faith, and he supposed that was what he had held against her during their first meeting. She had experienced death before she had been born. She had lived and she had died before he was born even.  
  
When he had found out just who she was and worked out just how she was related to Angel, he remembered several occasions on which Angel would recount various killings he had carried out for the enjoyment of Darla and Drusilla, whilst Spike lurked in the backround making snide comments.  
  
One that Darla had loved particularly was the tale of how he had murdered his family. Parents, brother, three sisters, all within a week or so. What was mostly brilliant about how he had done this was how he had picked out his oldest sister, Grace, and broken her down by slaughtering people one by one. Spike had thought it was all too cliché really, but the girls had adored hearing it. Angel would always laugh when he described Grace's death.  
  
So now Grace- or Gracia- was back and also the Slayer. The irony almost made Spike want to laugh. The tale had fallen to bits in his mind over the decades, but he vaguely remembered its basis. But he recollected Angel relating how very big and frightened her eyes had been on the night of her death.  
  
Her eyes, when she had spoken to Spike, were large and deep down there was the slightest hint of fear. Fear for her friends and family, not for herself, against whatever had happened to them. Even he had to admit that so many accidents to so small a group of people within such a short space of time pointed straight to dark witchcraft.  
  
There was something other than her otherwise confident nature that had unnerved him a little. It was how intriguing he had found her, like she was something he had to find out more about.  
  
Oh great. Now he was obsessing over a Slayer. Again.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes, thinking, Bloody hell, I need to get out of here.  
  
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Hope y'all liked that! Just something for all you other big Spike fans out there! ;-DI hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Please review now and tell me what you do n' don't like. Cheers! 


	17. Sadistic fun.

A/N: Heeheehee, back again! GUESS WHAT? My internet restrictions have been relaxed- now I can go on anytime I like! Only problem is, I hafta pay for what I spend, but I'm willing to do that 'cause y'all so nice about my fics! But still, the exams mean that revision is greater, but I'm still tryin' to churn out a chapter a week at least.  
  
Disclaimer: I may be the author, but Buffy is Joss Whedon's.  
  
Dedication:   
  
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Zachary paced in front of the grovelling vampire, watched as always by the entire cult. In Zachary's strong hand was clutched the scriptures that had been dug by this very vampire who was now cringing in front of him shamelessly. This very vampire who had allowed his squad to be slaughtered by a Slayer and a traitor. This very vampire who was now pleading for his afterlife.  
  
This very vampire who had delivered what might prove to be the key to returning the Anointed One to existence.  
  
Not that that would affect Zachary's sense of cruel enjoyment at witnessing what this demon was reduced to.  
  
"Lee, did I thank you for the scriptures?" His voice dripped with heavy sarcasm. Lee looked up, his face coming into the flickering light of the candles. Exposing the cuts and bruises of a recent beating from his cruel Sire.  
  
"You did." Lee was trembling ashamedly now, weakened by his injuries. He could say no more, for Zachary suddenly stamped hard on one of Lee's outstretched hands. Lee screamed as Zachary ground Lee's fingers into the floorboards until the bones inside snapped sickeningly. As Lee collapsed, Zachary walked away and tossed the scroll in his hand to a waiting vampire, ready to decode the message with a co-scribe. Zachary, meanwhile, decided to continue his little game.  
  
"It still amazes me," he mused. "When I first saw you back in 1904, I believed you might have held some promise in you. You may have risen to be almost as great as me." He sneered at the blonde. "I didn't realise that I would still make mistakes after all my years."  
  
"I am sorry!" Lee cried, dragging him limp hand towards his aching body. "I repent, Zachary, I repent!"  
  
"I am sick of worthless apologies!" Zachary thundered suddenly. All eyes, except that of the scribes, were on the leader and his disgraced childe. "Every day I am expected to accept such insignificant words! You are all not fit to be called demons! This was once an elite force, gathering to the hellmouth to raise our great leader! Look at you all! Reduced to the power of infants!"  
  
Lee let out a small sniff of hurt reluctantly. Never in all of his life, both human and vampiric, had he experienced such pain. Zachary rounded on him at this, viciously kicking him across the room so that he struck the wall. Zachary jeered as Lee slid down the wall in unbelievable agony.  
  
"Snivelling brat!" Zachary yelled, really letting his rage fly out now. "Idiotic, incompetant, pathetic little brat! You allowed five more to die at the hands of a sixteen-year-old Slayer! My army has depleted already and all you can do, you, the 'great warrior', is loose even more of my fighters!"  
  
He stormed over to the broken body of Lee, grabbing him roughly by the lapels of his jacket, hauled him up and slammed him hard into the wall. Lee cowered away from his Sire, loosing whatever shred of the merest form of dignity he may have yet possessed, gabbling defeated pleas through his heavily bleeding lips. Long gone was the time when he had attempted to fight back. His entire being thudded with vehement throbbing and stabbed with fire-like pain. His bones were shattered mostly, his skin was blushing purple-black with bruising, and he could only appeal to whatever sympathetic sliver there may have been in the human side of Zachary's nature.  
  
A lost hope on all accounts. Life wouldn't be worth living even if he was awarded the second chance he desired. He had prooved himself to be nothing, to be below the contempt reserved only for traitors like William the Bloody and Angelus.  
  
Zachary revelled in the terror he had inspired on the once-mighty Lee. He loved to bathe in the aura of fear that those facing their brutal and bloody deaths. Vampire, human, it didn't matter. It was exhilarating. It was stimulating. It was just damn fun.   
  
One day he might have the pleasure of seeing Ambulo Mortuus crushed underneath his fist. But those powers...no matter whether the consequences of the spell had been severe or not, long term or short term, powers of darkness such as those were to be feared. Any vampire with sense- and perhaps even some without- should see that.  
  
How long they remained locked in that embrace of fatality, nobody was entirely certain. Seconds could have become minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days for all they cared. They were riveted. Zachary's gleaming vampire eyes burned with a vile delight at the fright in Lee's pained expression.  
  
"We have found it!" One scribe, a small guy with black hair and glasses, cut into the silence. "We have deciphered the scriptures!"  
  
Zachary kept Lee pinned to the wall by his right arm pressing into Lee's neck, as his left hand reached out for the message. He ripped his eyes from the sight of his childe's panicky face to view his scribes.  
  
"Are you entirely sure that every word is in place?" Two heads nodded. "That every detail is correct?" Two more nods. "That I will not be failed yet again?" Yet another two nods. "Good."  
  
The other scribe, a slightly built man with light brown hair, approached and held the message within Zachary's reach. Zachary snatched it and brought it closer to him, studying it greedily. Slowly, a grin of purest evil spread across his mouth and he looked back at Lee, adjusting his grip so that his hand was clutching it.   
  
"Tell me, Lee, what were your dreams for when the Anointed One rose triumphant once more?" Lee's strangled gurgles of a reply were heard in the ringing silence by all.  
  
"That he would reign victorious as was his right to do so, with you at his right hand..." Lee choked suddenly as the grip on him tightened.  
  
Zachary summed up his decision in one word. "Liar."  
  
It happened so fast that it was a blur to all but the leader himself. He dropped Lee to a crumpled heap on the floor, pulled out a hidden stake and plunged it deep into his childe's heart. Lee exploded without another cry.  
  
Zachary cast aside the stake carelessly, sauntering back over to where he had previously stood. The wooden stick split as it hit the floor, but nobody noticed. Zachary looked back at the paper, grin widening even more.  
  
"Well, well, well," he tutted loudly. "Who would have thought that it was there?"  
  
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Hate to leave you on a cliffhanger...no, wait, actually I don't. Ya see, if you review quickly, the next chapter will apear, and you'll read and review it...and so on and so forth. Plz review! Thanx! 


	18. Arguments and Gifts.

A/N: Does anyone actually bother to read these little ramblings of mine? Doubt it. **Sighs** Ah, well, at least I have myself to talk to! ;-D  
  
Disclaimer: ???!!! What'd ya reckon?  
  
Dedication: To my mum- Happy Mother's Day!  
  
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"Do you know of Zachary?"  
  
"What?" Angel hadn't been expecting Gracia's question as they walked to the Bronze that night. She had seemed a little more lost in her thoughts than usual, but he had thought nothing of it. A lot was happening- she had reason to be pensive.  
  
"I asked if you'd heard of Zachary." Gracia repeated. As the question left her lips for a second time, she realised that there were probably several Zacharys in the vampire world and so decided to elaborate. "Sired by the Master, about four hundred and fifty years old. We think."  
  
Angel looked at his sister a little worriedly, although he didn't allow himself to show it. He slowly said, "Yes. We've met more than once.Why?"  
  
"Because I know that he's something to do with this whatever it is that's happening." Gracia sighed. "I was out patrolling the other night with...someone, and we found some vampire gang digging up a grave to retrieve some mouldy old scroll. They mentioned Zachary and one vampire got away with the papers. Luke, Keisha and I tried to research him but Cecelia banned us because I needed to train." She shrugged. "That was her story any how."  
  
Angel's mind was racing at two miles a minute with all this information, with all the questions he wanted and needed to ask. Eventually, he said, "Why would she stop you like that?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. She's...strange, you know? But I guess that's Watcher's for you." A small smile hovered briefly on her lips. "Always urging you to work harder."  
  
"Wouldn't she even let Keisha and Luke research?"  
  
"She hates them being in on my 'little secret', so that is always going to be a dead end. Anyway, what do you know about Zachary?"  
  
Angel knew a lot. What could he say though? He didn't doubt her powers, didn't doubt how strong she was physically and mentally, but also didn't want to cause her any unescessary concern. Of course, where vampires were concerned, no amount of concern and wariness was unesscessary. Their pace, by this time, had slowed almost completely.  
  
"If it's this Zachary that you think it might be, then we're in trouble." Angel answered unwillingly.  
  
Gracia's eyes widened slightly and her tone was stiff as she processed the concern in his voice. "How much trouble?"  
  
"Gracey, Zachary won't give up on what he wants. He's been around for centuries so he's had a lot of time to perfect his battle skills. Whatever it is he's after...he's determined to get it, and it looks like he has helpers."  
  
"Angel, what do I do?" She sighed helplessly. "I feel so useless."  
  
"You're not, Gracey." They stopped now, and he hugged her comfortingly. "Every Slayer needs help now and again, and you've got everyone here for you. Me, Keisha, Luke, all of us. The witchcraft...as far as I know, Zachary wasn't one for attempting magic of any kind. My...friend, in Boston, she's researching possibilities for us. She bound to find something. She used to be a Wiccan."  
  
They broke apart and Gracia smiled, slightly reassured now. Only slightly, but at least it was a bit. "Thanks." she said as they began to walk again.  
  
"For what?" he asked with a returning half-smile.  
  
"Everything."  
  
It wasn't until a silent minute or so had passed when Angel suddenly remembered another question. He glanced at her and asked, "So who were you patrolling with?"  
  
She looked at him also and the guilt in her eyes was evident. "Well," she said slowly. "Keisha and Luke were having to stay in because they had to go to their dad's in L.A. that weekend, so I sort of went with Spike."  
  
"What?" Angel almost yelled, stopping dead. Gracia halted and stood staring at him, not entirely sure what was goind to happen. "Spike approached you again?"  
  
"No." she replied. "I met him in the graveyard, completely unexpected. I swear."  
  
"Did he try to hurt you?"  
  
"No! He helped me fight the vamp gang working for Zachary."  
  
"Gracey," Angel explained. "Spike is evil. He wouldn't hesitate to kill you-"  
  
"He has a chip in his head. He can't hurt me or any other living thing." Gracia was just beginning to become a little exasperated. Why exactly did Angel think Spike was so incredibly evil? Sure, he was souless, but at least he was on their side. That had to count for something. Everybody was telling her what to do all the time, doubting her strengths. Angel, Cecelia, teachers...everyone.  
  
"If he could kill you, he would." Angel ammended. "He's killed two Slayers before, attempted to kill a third, and no matter what he insists, he's still not on our side. He's on the side of whoever will give him a better deal."  
  
Gracia took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment and counted to five. Then she began her own arguments.  
  
"Angel." Her voice was clear and unmistakable, more like the old Grace than ever. "Please, listen to me. If we benefit as well as him from some kind of agreement, who can loose? Zachary certainly isn't going to want to welcome Spike back if he's killed at least a few of his army, is he?"  
  
Angel seemed to be struggling slightly to find an answer to that. "We don't know until it's happened. Gracey, I just don't want you going near him, OK? For your own safety."  
  
Gracia was more than just a bit annoyed now. "I may be sixteen, but I'm still the Slayer!" she said heatedly, voice rising. "I can look after myself!"  
  
Angel looked hurt and angry with himself. "Gracey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."  
  
"Look, I need time alone. See you later." With that, she disappeared down the street quickly. Angel stood watching her leave, knowing that there was no way that he could calm her down at this moment. Another pain of guilt and despair shot through him.  
  
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This book was still not making much sense. Keisha scowled, slammed it shut, and tossed it randomly away. It sailed off the bed where she was sitting and clattered against the wall and to the floor. She threw herself into a laying position on her side and pushed her hair out of her eyes.  
  
"Maybe you aren't consulting the right thing."  
  
Keisha sat bolt upright at the voice and narrowed her eyes slightly as she saw a now quite familiar person sitting on the chair by her overflowing desk.  
  
Or should that be 'a now quite familiar ghost'?  
  
"What do you want, Buffy? I'm not in the mood right now." she snapped. Then regretted it. "Sorry."  
  
"Whatever it is you want to find, why don't you ask somebody?" Buffy rose and walked to where the book lay, bending down to read the title aloud. "'Ghosts and Apparitions- The Spirit World.'" She stood up and raised an eyebrow at Keisha, who squirmed.  
  
"Oh, don't." she said. "It looked like the one with the most knowledge in it, so I went for it. I need to find out what's happening."  
  
"You mean why you can see me but nobody else can?" Keisha nodded at this.  
  
It was constantly on her mind why she seemed to be the only one who could see Buffy. She knew because, on several occasions, somebody of her family would walk in for one reason or another, and not seem to notice her. Charlie had even walked straight through her. Was she going crazy? Or was it something else?  
  
"Who am I gonna ask though, Buffy?" Keisha sighed. "We are talking months of extensive weird looks and blackmail here."  
  
"The Watcher?" Keisha raised her eyebrows. "Or not. Luke? Gracia? Angel?" On each name Keisha shook her head, although she blushed slightly on the mention of the last name. "OK. Well, if you don't ask anyone, you can't expect to find anything."  
  
"Just anything would help." Keisha sat up properly and slammed her left hand into the bed in frustration. "I'd just like to narrow the search down from infinity."  
  
Buffy looked thoughtful. "You know what? I think I might know what you have."  
  
Keisha rolled her eyes. "Oh great, make it sound like an illness." Noticing Buffy's slightly offended look, she winced. "Sorry, bad day. You were saying?"  
  
"I think you might have Second Sight."  
  
There was a silence as Keisha blinked surprisedly. Then she giggled.  
  
"You're kidding! What, like in the films?" she asked increduously.  
  
Buffy nodded. "It'd need research so you'll have to abandon whatever life you have at the moment, but I think that's what it could be. I mean, you can see me, and you were having those dreams...what about them anyway?"  
  
"Oh, them. They stopped." Keisha lied. Maybe it wasn't so much of a lie. She'd stopped having that reoccurring one about Gracia in eighteenth century Galway- if that wasn't weird enough- but had started to have others. Weirder ones. Mainly including death.  
  
Buffy didn't look completely convinced, but nodded. "Right. But I really think you should tell some-"  
  
She was cut off by the door opening sharply and Luke walking in. Keisha swung around, covering her frantic thoughts with a frown.  
  
"You ever heard of knocking?" she asked.  
  
Luke raised his eyebrows. "Sorry Keisha. Came to tell you that Dad's on the phone and wants to talk to you after Charlie's finished detailing his soccer match. Just don't encounter Mom, she's not in the best of moods right now."  
  
"Oh right." Keisha said, loosing the frown. "Thanks Luke. Be down in a second."  
  
Luke looked around the room almost suspiciously. "What are you doing in here anyway?"  
  
Keisha glanced to where she could see Buffy standing, leaning against the wall. "Uh, nothing. Come on, let's go."  
  
She jumped up and steered her brother from the room. She glanced back breifly as she left to see that Buffy had gone.  
  
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You like? Hope so! Plz review, more soon if I can survive my revision books...grr! 


	19. Suspicion and Realization.

A/N: Just saw the finale for Season five (I don't have Sky, damn terristrial!) yesterday. OMG, that was a good episode. Really loved it. Anyways, here I am, skiving my German homework to bring you another chapter of this fic. ;-D Bow down an' worship me, people!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from what is...guess.  
  
Dedication: My 2 mates, for their birthdays this month. Have a great time, you two!  
  
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"Keisha's acting a little weird lately." Luke said as he and Gracia walked through the crowded halls of Sunnydale high on their way to class.  
  
"What do you mean?" Gracia asked, pushing back her plait with a grin. "We're girls. To the eyes of males like you, we're the most complex creatures on earth."  
  
Luke rolled his eyes. "Sure. I can figure out Bridget in three words: Gossip, Fashion, and Boys. Anyways, you're making me side-track here!"  
  
"Sorry. Go ahead."  
  
"Well, last night, I came to call her down for Dad's phone call. So I go upstairs and was about to knock on her door when I hear her talking to somebody."  
  
"Never heard of talking, huh? The thing you do when your lips move and noise comes out?" Gracia couldn't resist that little quip. Luke raised an eyebrow and she winced. "Sorry."  
  
"Now Little Miss Sarcastic's shut it, maybe I can continue." He wasn't really annoyed, they both knew that, but did a good charade of it. Gracia nodded meekly and he continued. "She couldn't be talking on the main line because Dad was speaking on it to Charlie. Her mobile was charging up downstairs, so that was ruled out. So I went in there, and she was alone."  
  
Gracia's face twisted for a second in slight interest. "So? There is such a thing as talking to yourself, you know."  
  
"Can you see Keisha doing that, though?"  
  
Gracia paused. "I see your point. But it could have happened, that's all I'm saying-"  
  
"What could have happened?" a familiar voice asked from behind them. They both jumped to see Keisha, scraping her long hair back into an untidy high ponytail. From the innocence of her tone and look, she seemed to have not heard what exactly they were talking about.  
  
"Oh, I'm just a little worried about Angel," Gracia covered quickly. "I had a bit of an argument with him last night, and I'm a little freaked in case something's happened to him."  
  
Luke nodded. "Yeah. I was just saying that he's probably gonna show at the Bronze tonight, so she shouldn't worry."  
  
"Luke's right, Gracia." Keisha agreed. "Angel's gonna be OK."  
  
Gracia smiled slightly and nodded. "Sure. You know, just with everything that's happening at the moment, I was getting a bit worried. I feel kinda guilty about having a go at him."  
  
"Don't." Keisha instructed. "That is the first sign of failure. You must argue with your siblings at every possible chance. It's a universal law."  
  
Laughing, the trio walked into the History classroom just as the bell went.  
  
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Willow started as a heavy book toppled off the book case and crashed to the floor, snapping her out of the half-concious train of study she was immersed in. With a sigh, she reached out for the book and picked it up, taking a quick look at the almost overflowing bookcase. No wonder it had fallen off of the crazily stacked piles.  
  
Mental memo: Get bigger bookcase.  
  
She picked it up with one hand, ignoring the fact that she was probably crumpling the pages of the tome already on her lap, and sat back up properly. At the quite unexpected weight, she had put out her other hand to support it, and now turned it over with some interest as to see what the title was.   
  
Two words stuck out clearly from the ancient cover.   
  
'DARKEST MAGICKS'.  
  
Willow frowned, wondering where she had got it from. Must've been from the Magic Box back when she used to live in Sunnydale. Strange. She didn't remember it. But that was hardly surprising- as she had been discovering these past few days, she had aquired almost too many books to count in the past twenty eight years of her life. And these were just the ones on magic...  
  
Willow was just about to replace the book to its space on one of the lower shelves when a voice seemed to whisper something to her mind.  
  
Open it Willow. Have a look.  
  
Willow's eyes grew larger with the beginnings of scaredness. She took a deep breath and composed herself. Her tired imagination was playing tricks on her. There was nobody in the house except for her and Tara, but Tara was in another room, logged into the internet in a bid to discover something hopeful online. To no avail yet, but she wasn't even halfway through the long list of millions of possibilities.  
  
The redhead leaned over to the shelves and had just rested the book ready to be slotted back into place when the voice returned, a heavy note of urgency in the tone.  
  
NO, Willow! Read it! Open the book!  
  
Despite herself, Willow's eyes darted around the room quickly before she drew the book back to herself, muttering under her breath, "Whoever you are, you sure are persistent."  
  
She pushed the volume she had been halfway through to one side and replaced it with the 'DARKEST MAGICKS' book. Apprehensively, she took a deep breath and opened it. She flipped a few of the parchment-like pages over and began to read. No, this spell was about a revenge for unfaithful lovers. Thinking of Anya, Willow wondered wryly if it was an alternative in case there happened to be no vengeance demons around. Although this picture of the results was really gross...Willow hurriedly turned a chunk more of the pages.  
  
Unlike with the other books, Willow was skimming this one, if only to keep that mysterious voice in her mind happy that she was looking at the requested book. She skipped large portions of text, not really knowing why she wasn't looking more closely. Maybe she needed a rest. Sure, she'd have one just after she finished checking this volume for that little voice.  
  
Something she was about to skip caught her eye suddenly and she looked at the italic writing, carefully reading it. A picture showed a crystal flask containing a bubbling black potion frothing almost over the sides as something that seemed to be a lock of hair was added.  
  
Willow's eyes widened once more as she delved into the spell's details. Eyes still transfixed on the passage, her right hand shot out and scrabbled blindly for the list of occurences in Sunnydale. She eventually pushed a manuscript aside to find it crumpled under there and brought it close to her. For the next few seconds, her eyes flicked between the magick book and the record of events and dates. She gasped slightly and her head shot up to look at the open door.  
  
"Tara!" she yelled. "Tara, come quickly!"  
  
There was half aminutes pause, broken by the sound of hurried footsteps nearing, and eventually Tara appeared through the door.  
  
"What is it, Will?" she asked, kneeling beside her girlfriend. "Have you found something?"  
  
Willow swallowed hard and attempted to find her voice. After failing to do so after a patient moment on Tara's account, she nodded and merely handed the book and list over to Tara so that she could read and compare them. Tara's eyes scanned both things repeatedly. Willow eventually found her voice and whispered, "I think so."  
  
Tara's eyes grew larger as Willow's had done. She eventually looked up at her, muttering, "Oh my god..."  
  
Willow nodded grimly. "We have to get to Sunnydale fast."  
  
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Sooooo...what have Willow and Tara found? Sure you've probably guessed it ain't good. Sozz about the wait- had sooo much 2 do this week it was unbelieveable. But now this is up, and you can review! Lol, just luv those reviews! Keep 'em comin' in! 


	20. Apologies and Prisoners.

A/N: Ah man, I'm tired. Oh well, at least I like writing! Which is more than can be said for my awaiting History homework...anywho, yet another chapter up, making a total of twenty now! **Punches air** Whoohoo! Go me! Took a while, due to getting nothing done over the weekend 'cause of camp, but now school's out so I'm going to be sitting here writing for the next 2 weeks.  
  
Disclaimer: Do I look like Joss Whedon? No. Apart from all original stuff, it's his.  
  
Dedication: Stormz, who has just had an operation. Get well soon sweetie.  
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When you hold a status of such immense popularity in high school, you have to keep proving yourself worthy of it.  
  
That was what Bridget Hadley was doing right now, eyes fixed on the nearby door of the Bronze as she chattered away to her gathering of fashion disciples.  
  
"I swear, Mia is really loosing herself these days!" Bridget's friend Louise giggled.  
  
"Well duh!" Bridget cut in scathingly. "The poor girl still seems to think that glittery nail polish is in!" This statement was met by agreeing giggles from all standing there.  
  
Somebody entered the nightclub then- someone tall, dark and seriously cute. Bridget stood up from the post she had been leaning on and a smile appeared as she watched him glance around the club. The other air heads noticed that she wasn't listening or talking, and followed her gaze. They realized what she wanted to try.  
  
"You think you can get him?" a blonde called Suzy asked.  
  
Bridget was annoyed at the obvious doubt in Suzy's voice and glanced breifly back at her, an eyebrow raised. "No," she answered, "I know I can."  
  
With that, she turned her back on the cheerleaders and began to sashay over to the newcomer. He was so absorbed in looking for whoever he had come to see that he didn't even look around at her standing next to him until she spoke.  
  
"I just love this song." Bridget batted her eyelashes. "Why don't you come dance with me?"  
  
The guy's expression was one of mild surprise. "Uh, sorry. I'm kind of here to meet someone."  
  
That comment added to Bridget's chagrin, and it began to show in place of her wide smile. "Well, aren't you even going to tell me your name? I'm Bridget Hadley."  
  
"Angel." he replied almost reluctantly and glanced to the other end of the nightclub, ignoring Bridget. She very nearly scowled as he smiled a bit at someone he saw there. She folded her arms and looked over to where he looked, and almost died of shock.  
  
This gorgeous guy was ignoring her in favour of three of the school outcasts? Because he was looking over at the table that Gracia McCormack, Luke Goldsmith and Keisha Goldsmith sat at. He took a step towards them, then turned back to Bridget.  
  
"See you around." he said and set off, leaving Bridget fuming silently. She managed to school her features to show calm and scorn as she went back to her gaggle of airheads. Suzy was smirking slightly.  
  
"So?" she asked. "What went wrong?"  
  
"Oh please." Bridget snorted. "He doesn't even have a car."  
  
How many years would it take her to live this down?  
  
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The trio at the table were struggling to hold back their laughter by the time Angel arrived there. Keisha was the most sucessful, with a large smile. Gracia was shaking slightly and grinning, but Luke was almost falling to pieces. He had gone bright red and was shaking uncontrollably with supressed mirth. Angel looked almost uncertain for a second before he took an empty seat between Keisha and his sister.  
  
"Hi Angel." Gracia managed to choke out, still smiling widely although she had managed to control the shuddering. "I see you've met our resident fashion guru, Bridget."  
  
"You know her then?" Angel asked lamely, at a bit of a loss of what to say.  
  
Luke grinned like a maniac. Keisha rolled her eyes although she too had an almost identical smile. "Yeah, she been in our class since kindergarten." Keisha informed.  
  
"Man, that was priceless." Luke eventually managed. "I should've brought a camera. Her face..." He nearly collapsed in hysterics.  
  
"So, why're you here?" Gracia asked, attempting to divert attention from Luke. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am, I just wondered." She was serious now.  
  
"I...wanted to say sorry about having a go at you about Spike." Angel admitted. "I just want you to be safe, that's all."  
  
"Sorry about going off like that." Gracia answered. "I shouldn't have got so annoyed. It was my fault as well."  
  
There was a pause and she smiled at him before leaning over to hug him quickly. At last there was peace between them again. Unfortunately, not for Luke. He knew that he wasn't goind to forget that hilariously outraged look on Bridget's face for a long time.  
  
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Spike wandered alone through the Sunnydale streets, looking for a fight to take his mind off of other things- namely, Gracia and his poofter of a grandsire. So far, he'd encountered no newbies rising in the graveyard, so it was onto the streets. Soon he'd have to turn back to avoid the imminent dawn  
  
There hadn't been any encounters last night, or the night before. Seemed that what Gracia had guessed was right. If there was a big cult of vampires, they must be either lying low or planning some big event. Recent events pointed to the latter. At least it'd give him something to do.  
  
As if that was a call for enemies, a noise caught his sensitive hearing and he stopped, listening carefully. A low voice threatening, footsteps, and slight whimpering. He took a few steps forward just as the vampires came around the corner of the street.  
  
There were two of them, one a red-head female and the other an albino male. Between them they were dragging a brunette girl of about nineteen who was trembling hard and pleading in sobs for her life as she attempted to twist from their grip. They seemed to be taking her for a meal, probably for their leader. Then they sensed Spike standing seven foot away from them and looked up, their faces ridged and contorted.  
  
"Let go of her." Spike said clearly. Always believed in giving them a fair chance before he killed them. The vamp girl snarled in the back of her throat and the guy's hold in the girl's wrist got tighter, causing her to cry out in pain.  
  
"Make us." the redhead sneered. With vampiric speed, she shoved their prey into the albino's arms and launched herself at Spike. Spike caught her by the throat and tossed her against the nearby chainlink fence. As she hit the ground, he leapt at the preoccupied albino and gave him a punch that sent his head snapping back painfully. Spike hit him again, this time making him fall to the ground and drop the girl. Crying, the girl scrambled to her feet.  
  
"Run." Spike warned, ducking a roundhouse kick. The girl didn't need telling twice and fled as fast as her tottering stilettos would allow her. Spike grabbed the back of his opponent's neck and rammed his head into the fence. He knocked back the approaching redhead into a lamppost and thrust a stake through the dazed albino's heart. The vampire crashed to the pavement as ashes.  
  
The girl watched Spike do this and pushed herself away from the lamppost and at Spike. Just as she was about to ram into him, Spike whipped around and seized her by the throat again. He lifted her off the ground, his grip tightening until her eyes widened with pain. Turning around, he slammed her back against the fence and placed the stake over her heart.  
  
At first, he was going to kill her. Going to push the wooden stick straight into her so that she exploded into dust like her friend. Her long nails scrabbled at his hand in a futile attempt to break his grip. He was going to kill her.  
  
But then he had a better idea.  
  
Lowering her to the ground but not removing the stake, he said, "Why don't we go for a little trip?"  
  
He shifted his grip to an arm around her shoulders, pinning her own arms to her sides. In his left hand he still held the stake. The redhead knew that she had no choice but to go with Spike as he pulled her down the street with him. Then he spoke again.  
  
"Ever been to Sunnyhell High?"  
  
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Soooo...sorry about the wait. I wuz gonna write when I got back on Sunday night, but I wuz absolutely knackered from camp. THEN Stormz went into hospital last night for an op...but the important thing is that it's up now! And now you hafta review plz! 


	21. Don't Kill The Messanger.

A/N: I should really be catching up on my Harry Potter fic at the moment, but I've sorta developed a block for it...ah well, at least y'all get a Buffy chapter! Man, I really have to finish off the re-written version of Grace's diary, but I guess it'll have to wait until I've finished this fic.  
  
Disclaimer: See other chapters. Not interested in writing this.  
  
Dedication: Whoever invented holidays. **Grins** I just love mine!  
  
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The vampire approached the sideroom of the warehouse apprehensively. Dawn had been lighting the skies for just over an hour now, and two hadn't returned from last nights hunt. Now came the question of how to break the news to Zachary without ending up like Lee. The leader was in a foul mood owing to several factors of annoyance: Ambulo Mortuus, diminishing numbers of the army, and lack of food. He'd sent several vamps out to get him some prey as he didn't trust Ambulo Mortuus alone, but last nights pair hadn't come back. Now, they were either staked or combusted or fled. Which would Zachary prefer to hear?  
  
Hovering outside the entrance, the vampire could hear Zachary inside talking angrily to the shrouded witch that was Ambulo Mortuus.  
  
"How much longer do we have to wait to find the Book of Amora?" he demanded. "We have known its position for long enough!"  
  
"Zachary." Ambulo Mortuus cut in. "If you truly wish to restore the Anointed One to his full former glory, you must have patience. I am certain that he would be grateful for it in the long run."  
  
There was a split-second pause before there came a terrible crash- Zachary had slammed his hand into an already broken table. His voice was angry and full of loathing when he next spoke.  
  
"Remind me why we don't kill you now."  
  
"You can't. I could send you back from me with a simple utterance of a spell. I could wipe you from existence with my magicks. Even the brute force and intense strength you put to use in controlling this sorry gathering are not a match for black magicks."  
  
Zachary's voice lost none of its hatred and fury, but gained a sarcastic note of wonderment to it. "And yet you are but mortal.If you were stripped of your powers, you would be nothing."  
  
"As you would be to in circumstances as such. As would anybody."  
  
Zachary laughed derisively. "You talk highly for one so lowly. Why are you doing this exactly?"  
  
"You already know what it is that I want in return for my services."  
  
"Eternal life as one of us? But why is it you require it such?"  
  
"The reasons are my own, and I choose not to divulge them with you or anyone else."  
  
"Again, the haughtiness. And why do you mask your identity with this cloak?"  
  
"My reasons are my own. Why should such trivial things as looks bother you when I aid you in restoring your rightful leader, as well as bringing to you the Slayer and her associates, including the traitorous vampires you seek, for the leader's will to deal with."  
  
The vampire messanger lurking outside could see nothing of what was happening inside from where he stood, but listened with some interest to the conversation, worries about delivering his message to Zachary currently forgotton. Of course, he wondered also who Ambulo Mortuus really was- most did- but nobody spoke of it. The cloaked stranger was evidently ruthless and powerful.  
  
Without warning, a strong hand shot out around the door and grabbed the vampire by his hair. With a yelp, the messanger was pulled into the room and slammed against the wall by his very irate leader.  
  
"It's not polite to eavesdrop." Zachary hissed through his fangs. The vamp's eyes widened and he visibly gulped.  
  
"I...I didn't mean...I'm sorry, I..."  
  
Over Zachary's shoulder he could see Ambulo Mortuus standing tall and thin, arms folded across their cloaked chest. A smirk was evident in their next words.  
  
"Spare us from your rambling. Did you have a purpose in coming here?"  
  
In a lightning fast movement, Zachary's grip shifted to the vamp's throat and he seized up a broken leg of the table, pressing the splintered end into the vamp's chest.  
  
"Well, Tom? Did you have cause to be here, or was it just a social call?"  
  
"I...had to tell you. Andy and Tanna didn't return from the hunt last night."  
  
"So that was why I went without a meal for another day." Zachary sneered, prodding the makeshift stake harder towards the messanger's heart. "And here I was, convinced that my followers were loyal enough to bring me a meal. But no. It has been two nights since I have eaten, two nights! And then that was just a morsel. A mere taste." He dug his claw-like nails into the vamp's throat. "Pray that the Anointed One will be as patient as I."  
  
With that, he dropped the vampire to the ground and tossed the stake aside. The vamp massaged his neck, knowing that Ambulo Mortuus's shadowed eyes were boring into him with a glint of sadistic glee. Those thin, pale hands uncurled themselves and flexed as though pining for a fight.  
  
Zachary was still continuing his tirade.   
  
"Soon I tell you, we shall raise our master and I shall be as free as any of you to go and hunt! But I exercise loyalty for my betters, unlike the idiots I am forced to control! This Slayer diminishes our numbers time and again, and a simple meal for one vampire is now having to be risen again just to keep our numbers up! She..." Unable to express his rage in words, Zachary picked up a large part of the table and flung it against the wall, where it snapped in half. He roared angrily.  
  
"Zachary, tempers are to be controlled outside of fights." Ambulo Mortuus chided in their cold accented voice. "The ritual will take care of her. And as of which, I shall leave now. But remember what they say."  
  
Zachary said nothing but glared at Ambulo Mortuus with such hatred that anyone else would probably run whimpering. But not the witch.  
  
"Don't kill the messanger."  
  
With a parting scornful glance at both of them, the mysterious witch left.  
  
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Please review! I love reading your reviews! It encourages me to write some more chapters! So what are you waiting for? Review please! 


	22. Suicidal Captives, Arguments and Finalit...

A/N: Grr. Been having a little trouble with the new story upload settings. But the rest of my time's spent writing and eating easter eggs. Happy holidays to all!  
  
Disclaimer: Joss is king.  
  
Dedication: All my readers and reviewers! Whoohoo, over 50 reviews! **Sniff** I feel honoured!  
  
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Gracia was in a good mood that sunny morning as she weaved her way through the crowded corridors towards the library. Last night's reconcilliation with Angel had put her in a pleasant enough mood to even not worry about Cecelia's possible reaction when she heard that Gracia hadn't gone patrolling.  
  
Dodging a group of moronic footballers giving her the eye, she pushed open the library doors and entered, humming to herself quietly as she shut them. She strolled along, casting her gaze about.  
  
"Cecelia?" she called. "Hello?"  
  
The whole room was disturbingly still and silent, as well as all the blinds being drawn. Slayer senses kicking in, she approached a table and set her bag down onto it, still looking around.  
  
"Anyone here? Hello?" she called, slipping her hand into her bag and curling her fingers around the sharp stake in there. Despite listening so carefully, she was still startled when somebody replied.  
  
"Slayer."  
  
She spun quickly around, stake raised. When her mind registered who it was, she sighed and dropped the stake back onto the table. "Spike! Don't do that."  
  
Spike grinned cockily. "Scare you, did I?"  
  
"No." she insisted, although they both knew there was some truth in what he had said. She frowned. "Why're you here?"  
  
"Brought someone to meet you."  
  
She raised her eyebrows in question and he nodded his head at something behind her. Gracia turned to see, half-hidden by a nearly fully-stacked shelf, somebody bound to a chair, watching her with glowing gold eyes. Gracia chewed her lip slightly as she moved to get a better view of the captive. It was a vampire girl with long, thick red hair and her game face on, a cut across her forehead and a nasty burn on her left cheek. Gracia heard Spike come up behind her and she voiced her question in one word.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"This cult theory you had, love. Thought that maybe this one could help lead you to them if she's in on it." She sensed him shrug. "Just an idea."  
  
Gracia shook her head and looked back at him with a smile. "No, thanks." There was a pause, which caused her to look away again and ask, "I take it Cecelia's not here then? Otherwise you'd be dust."  
  
"Nah, the Watcher chick hasn't shown yet. Good luck for me." Gracia laughed a little before a moment of silence returned.  
  
It was broken by the doors opening again and the twins coming in, laughing and joking about something. Gracia and Spike both turned at the sudden noise, and the twins halted when they realised they were being watched.  
  
"Hey." said Luke easily. "What's up?"  
  
"What's going on?" Keisha sounded a little more concerned than her brother. After all, you didn't really expect to find a vampire in your school when it's both daylight and blazing sunshine. Even on the Hellmouth.  
  
"Oh, we've, uh, got a guest." Gracia explained, gesturing towards the now snarling redhead vamp captive. Luke and Keisha came around to have a clear view of them and stopped dead. Their faces simultaneously paled by several shades.  
  
"Guys?" Gracia asked worriedly. "Guys, what's up?"  
  
Luke eventually found his voice. "Oh my god..."  
  
"What, never seen a vampire before?" Spike asked, earning a quick reproachful glance from the Slayer standing next to him. "What?"  
  
Keisha shook her head. "You...no. You're not. God, you can't be!"  
  
"Can someone explain?" Gracia asked, thoroughly confused. To Spike, she asked, "What's her name?"  
  
He shrugged. "She reckons her name is Tanna. Of course, she wasn't too happy to tell me that. Nice weapon store your Watcher's got."  
  
"But it's not." Luke whispered, gaining their attention again. "It wasn't."  
  
It took a second for Luke's words to register properly in her mind, but when they did, Gracia's eyes flew open wide with realization. Her mind had dragged her back to the night Keisha had been attacked in the alley, when Luke and Keisha had the existence of vampires confirmed to them.  
  
"Oh my..."  
  
"Mind filling a guy in on the situation, pet?" Spike asked, an eyebrow arched. "I did bring her here, you know."  
  
Gracia shook her head slightly, sympathy for the twins on her face. "Her real name's not Tanna," she said in a low voice. "It's Tanya."  
  
"Don't call me that!" the vampire yelled, voice fierce and angry. "Never call me that! My name is Tanna!"  
  
Keisha had tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Oh Tanya, my god, what happened?"   
  
Spike was still mystified as to what the teenagers and vampire were talking about. He put his hand on Gracia's shoulder and turned her to face him. "What's going on, Slayer?"  
  
Gracia shut her eyes for a second to regroup her thoughts and ducked away slightly from Spike's hand so that she could think clearer. "This girl," she began to explain, and sighed. "She is...was the daughter of their godmother. Only everybody thought she'd died with the rest of the family a few years back."  
  
"They tasted good." the girl formerly known as Tanya jeered cruelly. Keisha screwed her eyes shut tight and put her fingers to her temples as she bowed her head. Luke was staring at her in shellshocked silence until he spoke again.  
  
"Why, Tanya? Why'd you do it?"  
  
Tanya tossed her head. "I was attacked on the way home from college one night by the vampire who later became my Sire. My blood was drained from me and I drank from him. By the time I awoke twelve hours later, I was so much stronger, so much better than mortal. I wasn't Tanya, so I changed my name to Tanna. Then I drank from my family."  
  
"Well that's a basic way of describing vampirification." Spike muttered. Gracia shook her head and replied in a low voice, "We don't need that right now, thanks."  
  
She walked up to the twins as Tanya began to hiss at them how she had come to the house the next night to kill them. The grin on her blood-covered face was one of evil delight.  
  
"Do you guys want to go or stay here?" she asked gently. Keisha's eyes opened and both of them shook their heads. Keisha replied normally, "We have to stay here."  
  
"Remember- it isn't her. It's the demon that killed her." Gracia whispered, praying that Spike wouldn't hear her. She didn't want to possibly offend him.   
  
Calmly, she strode out towards the vampire, who shut up as she came nearer. The grin didn't fade. The Irish Slayer looked back briefly at Spike and an understanding passed between them. He picked up the stake from the table and threw it to her waiting hand. She placed it firmly over the vampire's heart.  
  
"Tell me where the nest is." she demanded coldly. The vampire looked away, shaking her head slightly. Gracia pushed the stake closer to Tanya. "Tell me."  
  
Tanya's head snapped around and her gold eyes flared at the Slayer. "Kill me, go on." she chided. "I'm sure Luke and Keisha will just love you for it. Sooner or later you will, and they'll leave you."  
  
"No." Luke shook his head. "Because you're not Tanya. Like you said, you're Tanna. And we don't know you."  
  
Tanna's eyes widened as she realised that her winning hand had failed and slowly slid her eyes back to the Slayer, patiently waiting for an answer, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"Well?" Gracia asked. "'Cause I don't think we have all day. While you're at it, what is actually going on?"  
  
As she said this, she showed Tanna the crucifix at her throat. Tanna hissed and tired to look away, without much success.   
  
"As you asked, I'll kill you, but how long it takes is up to you. You can go quick or slow, your decision."  
  
Tanna's vampiric face creased in pain and anger. She knew she had no choice and her lips parted to speak. Just one word came.  
  
"Anointed-"  
  
"What is going on in here?" an English voice demanded as the doors were pushed open and banged shut again. They all turned their heads to Cecelia stalking in, an expression of cold fury etched on her pale face. Using this distraction as an escape, Tanna thrust her upper body forward onto the stake in Gracia's hand. She didn't even cry out as she exploded into ash.  
  
"What the-" Gracia looked around again and realised what her captive had done. "Oh great."  
  
Spike's mind processed Tanna's one word answer and slapped the table hard. "Bugger!"  
  
Gracia turned to him, eyes wide questioningly. "What?"  
  
Spike was about to explain when Cecelia shoved a wooden cross in front of his face. He yelled out and stepped back before it touched him, backing away from the enraged Watcher.  
  
"Easy!" He held up both hands in a peace-like gesture. "I'm not here to get dusted!"  
  
"Monster!" Cecelia hissed, continuing to approach him with the crucifix. He was backed up against a shelf now, without any real escape. With her left hand, Cecelia reached out and yanked on the string by the window. The blind shot straight up and bright sunlight struck Spike for a second before he dodged back into the shadows with another yell.  
  
"Cecelia!" Gracia appeared beside Spike, glaring angrily at her Watcher. "He's here to help us!" She rested her hand lightly on his arm and looked up into his blue eyes. "You OK?"  
  
He nodded and was about to reply when Cecelia interrupted.   
  
"I cannot believe you would be as foolhardy as to believe a word that issues from the mouth of this demon!" she sneered. "But then again, maybe you would. Considering how much you wish to consort with this one and the one you call your brother, I don't expect you to see your seventeenth birthday!"  
  
Gracia took a deep breath, normally pale cheeks beginning to darken red. "I'll live, don't worry. To see that birthday and many more. But I am not going to stand by and watch you insult my friends and family like that."  
  
Cecelia narrowed her steel-grey eyes in disgust and hate. "If that thing isn't out of my sight in three seconds flat, his ashes will be scattered across this very floor."  
  
Spike caught Gracia's gaze, knowing the Watcher meant him. "Be seeing you, love."  
  
Taking an unneeded breath, he charged at the exit, breaking through the doors and beginning on his route to his crypt. He stuck to the darker areas and moved as quickly as his vampiric speeds would allow him to.   
  
Back in the library, both Slayer and Watcher were seething with anger at each other.  
  
"I can't believe you just did that!" Gracia exclaimed. "That vampire Spike brought us was going to tell us what was going on when you distracted me and she staked herself!"  
  
"He probably forced her into the deal to say things from his own whimsy." Cecelia snapped. "From now on, I will not allow you to have anything to do with him!"  
  
Gracia's eyes widened with inexpressable rage. "You are unbelievable." she stated evenly. How could Cecelia prevent her from seeing her friend like that? She stalked over to the table, threw the stake into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Cecelia demanded, casting aside the cross and approaching her. "You have training to do!"  
  
"I'll do it later." Gracia remarked flippantly. She looked up at the twins- who had been unmoving and silent until now- and asked gently, "Are you two going to come with? Mrs. Davis isn't going to be happy if we're late for computer science class again."  
  
They paused before they both started to walk over. "Sure, we're coming." Luke said, managing a smile at Gracia as they all walked away from her Watcher.  
  
"I guess we're all in for studying again tonight?" Keisha asked as they began down the corridor amongst the last few students to get to class. "Researching on the word 'Anointed'."  
  
"Only if you're OK with it." Gracia insisted. "I mean, with what just happened and all..." She trailed off uneasily.  
  
"Doesn't matter, does it Luke?" Keisha asked, and Luke nodded. "She...that vampire told us that Tanya had died years ago. And it's Tanya we knew, not Tanna. So don't blame yourself."  
  
Gracia smiled and linked arms with Keisha. "Thanks."  
  
"Maybe we should ask Spike." Luke suggested as they walked into class (thankfully not late enough to be noticed by the teacher) and took up their usual seats. "I mean, he brought Tanna here."  
  
"I'll talk to him and Angel later on." Gracia said. She frowned. " 'Anointed'. It rings some distant bells in my mind, it's part of a phrase, I'm sure." She sighed and opened the textbook on her desk. "But at the moment, I'm just concerned with passing this class to keep my parents happy."  
  
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Hope you like! Please review! It took me a while to write this, what with revision and all. I know what I wanna put in in the next chapters, but it's a case of sorting it all out. Still, I'd like to know- does the Tanya/Tanna thing make sense? It was always intended like that. Did anyone guess? I'd like to know please! Thank you! 


	23. Graveyard Encounters while Searches Cont...

A/N: Yay, another chapter! Go me! But I'm angry at the moment, 'cause guess what? SOMEBODY **multiple death glares at younger siblings** decided to take down my computer wallpaper (which wuz the cast of Angel) and replace it with something about the water cycle (??!!). Grr, I'll get them! Oh yeah, and the first bit is a flashback from Luke, 'K? Tell me in your reviews how much you love it, lol.  
  
Disclaimer:Not being a millionaire, I can't buy what I don't own, but I will when I become one, OK?  
  
Dedication: To the Queen Mother- rest in peace.  
  
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The blonde nine-year old sat slouched glumly at the back of Mrs. Meeching's fourth grade English class, the words about Japanese Haikus flying straight over his head.  
  
There were several reasons for Luke Goldsmith not to listen. One was that he was sitting in between Todd Deayton and David Carlisle, two idiotic bullies who took great delight in making his every day existence a misery. He had had, back on the third day of kindergarten, the chance to be friends with them and their whole little gang...IF he shunned his twin sister Keisha, who had been his best friend since they were born. He didn't understand why they told him to push her over into the water trough. They said it was because she was a girl, and girls were stupid. But when Luke looked at Keisha's watchful turquoise eyes, her untidy bunches, her little smile when he came to do the deed, he knew he couldn't. And he told them that. And they began the torment.  
  
It made his parents angry to see him come home with split lips, cuts, black eyes and bruised legs and grazed hands. The school offered no help in stopping the bullying, prompting more rows between his parents. Now his dad simply yelled at him to fight back. That was fine for him to say. At just over six foot, he was the tallest man Luke knew. But Luke was short, too short to throw back a decent punch at them. And six to one aren't good odds. Todd and David didn't fight fair.  
  
He wasn't alone when he was with Keisha though. The other girls had never wanted to mix with the slightly tomboyish Keisha, and their 'brainless' chatter bored her stiff. Their familiar jokes, conversations and arguments helped to block out the pain at school and the pain at home. And so they stuck together, inseperable, The Twins...  
  
Until they had started the fourth grade.  
  
Mrs. Meeching, their new teacher, had tutted when she saw them at a pair of desks at the back of the room and had ordered Keisha to the front row. Both of them had stopped working in protest. Their parents were called in after two weeks to see the teacher, and their mom had asked why she had split them up in the first place.  
  
"I think it is important for Keisha and Luke to develop as individuals," Mrs. Meeching replied, flashing them all a sickeningly patronizing smile. "They've been led to believe that they have to be completely identical."  
  
That had sparked even more arguments between their divorced parents, and they knew they'd have to start working again.  
  
So they did. Identical maps, identical sketches, identical answers. Just to achieve their revenge against the hated teacher. And then Luke had come up with another idea as well.  
  
It was simple really. Keisha, being at the front, would make the signals. When she cocked her head to the left, they'd tip the books off their deaks. Wriggling in her seat meant simultaneous sneezes, and they had to start laughing if she dropped her pen.  
  
Keisha, at this moment, scratched her right cheek. There was a scraping of chairs as they both stood up, gaining an audience as usual.  
  
"Please miss," they said in one voice. "May I be excused?"  
  
Mrs. Meeching frowned as always, secretely wondering how they did it. Eventually, she pursed her lips and said, "Very well. Hurry up."  
  
Totally in step, they walked out of the room. Left, right, left, right, until they were safely out of earshot in the corridor and began to laugh.  
  
It was a tiresome process, but Luke was prepared to go to any lengths to show them all that Keisha was his best friend and that nothing could alter that.  
  
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Keisha hadn't meant to fall asleep.  
  
It wasn't really her fault. Straight after classes ended, the three of them had returned to the library to start on all the possible trendrils of information off of the one word 'Anointed'. As if that wasn't bad enough, she'd put up with the most boring classes ever today and had been woken up, unable to get back to sleep, at three in the morning when her little brother Charlie had 'accidentally' reset her alarm clock. Sitting alone in the stacks of books, with nothing but silence and ancient books around her, her concentration had dropped and she had drifted off.  
  
Unfortunately, it wasn't 'Anointed' that she was researching. She felt terrible about not helping Gracia like she said she would, but she wanted to research the possibility of Second Sight as well, and as the opportunity of being alone with the books had presented itself...still, she slept now, still sitting, book propped on her lap.  
  
And it was then that she began to dream.  
  
Just like in the others, it felt like she was floating. This time, she found herself hovering nearby what seemed to be a full-scale fight in an old house. Vampires in full brutality and game faces fought hard against...them. Keisha could see herself, Luke, Spike, two women who she didn't know and (her heart beginning to beat faster) Angel, all fighting against the vampires. At the far end of the room, with Angel heading to help her, Gracia was kicking vampires back from her as she dueled with what was probably the leader- a tall and broad male with black hair and a terrifying vampiric visage on his face.   
  
Then she noticed a cloaked figure, fighting with the vampires. It was chanting against the two strange women, some kind of force field building up. Then the scene dissolved into another one.   
  
Gracia stood on a large balcony with the shrouded person, but there was no fighting going on. Instead they seemed to be...talking? She couldn't hear the words, but the cloaked one was obviously sneering, right before they moved...  
  
"Keisha?"  
  
The sound of her name spoken in a low and quite concerned voice snapped her from the dream and she started awake. She swung her gaze around guiltily to find herself face to face with Angel, crouching beside her, a hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Angel! God, you scared me. What're you doing here?" Even as she said it, she could feel herself getting lost in his dark eyes, and her cheeks began to flush red.  
  
"I just got here. Are you OK?"  
  
She blinked. "Sure, I'm fine. Just...sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Does Luke know you're here?" Just to change the topic.  
  
He gestured to a nearby window, which was quite low and half open. "I came in by that, so no."  
  
Keisha smiled. "You ever heard of using a door once in a while?"  
  
Angel stared at her blankly for a second then gave her his gorgeous half-smile that made her stomach flip over. "I figured that Cecelia wouldn't be too pleased to see me."  
  
"You don't have to worry. Cecelia's..." Keisha frowned when she suddenly realised that she didn't actually know WHERE Cecelia was. "Not here, at any rate. So you're alright."  
  
She noticed then that Angel's eyes had moved onto the book in her lap, of which the title was showing. She hurriedly tried to cover it up, but knew she was too late, especially when Angel met her gaze again. There was concern in his eyes.  
  
"Is everything alright, Keisha?" he asked, voice lower than before. Keisha closed her eyes briefly before opening them and forcing a smile.  
  
"Yeah, sure." It sounded lame and unconvincing even to herself. She didn't object when he took the book from her and studied it for a few seconds. She sighed as he met her eyes once more.  
  
"No. I just...have dreams sometimes that don't make much sense. I figured reading that might help." Keisha bit her lower lip, looking ashamedly down at the floor, unable to hold Angel's stare. "I know now isn't a good time, but..." She trailed off despairingly.  
  
"You were asleep just now." Angel's voice was low and sounded worried about her. "Did you have another dream?"  
  
She hesitated for a second then nodded. When she looked up at him, she noticed he hadn't looked away from her.  
  
"Do you want to tell me about it?"  
  
Any other time she would have jumped at the chance. But not right now. Her guilt at not helping out was growing by the minute.   
  
"Alright, but I'd better start looking for this thing we're researching anyway. We can talk whilst we try to look, can't we?"  
  
"If you're sure." He stood up and helped her to her feet. Together they walked out to the main part of the library where Luke was flipping somewhat boredly through a large dusty book. He looked up when he heard them coming.  
  
"Hi." He said, not even fazed by Angel's very sudden appearance. "Found anything?"  
  
Keisha and Angel enchanged a quick glance and she shook her head. "No. You?"  
  
He shook his head as well. "Nothing." Slamming the book shut, he put it aside on the table and picked up another.  
  
"What're you looking for?" Angel questioned.  
  
Together, the twins explained what had happened that morning with their ex-friend Tanya and how they had gotten one word from her when Cecelia interrupted and the vampire girl had staked herself.  
  
"What was it she said?"  
  
"Anointed." Luke said grimly. "And that was it."  
  
Realisation and horror showed up on Angel's face just then. The twins simultaneously asked, "What?"  
  
"I think I know what's happening." Angel said slowly. "I know what she was about to say. Where's Gracey? She should hear this as well."  
  
"She went out about fifteen minutes ago." Keisha said. "She's looking for Spike, she was going to ask him what it was."  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Gracia absently twisted the stake around her fingers as she wandered through the graveyard, humming quietly to herself but keeping herself alert all the time. Eventually she put the stake back into the bag over her shoulder and stopped, just looking and listening for any vampires.  
  
Actually, just one vampire. Spike.  
  
As if her thought was some kind of summons, she heard the familiar Cockney-accented voice from behind her.  
  
"Looking for me, pet?"  
  
She spun around, meeting his cocky grin with a look of seriousness. She sighed and asked, "Do you have to keep doing that?"  
  
His grin widened slightly as he took a drag on the lit cigarette in his hand, exhaled the smoke when it started to burn the back of his throat and cast the cigarette aside carelessly. Gracia pulled a slight face when it landed in the jar of water containing flowers on a nearby grave.  
  
"What can I say, Slayer? It's amusing to see your reaction. I thought you were supposed to know if vampires came up behind you?"  
  
"Give me a break, I've only been employed for three months." She wrapped her jacket tighter around herself and leaned her back against a grave stone so that she was still facing him. "So, are you going to tell me?"  
  
"Tell you what?" Spike knew perfectly well what she meant, but it was fun to try to annoy her. Didn't always work, but it was fun to try.  
  
Gracia rolled her eyes. "You know what. You seemed to know what Tanna was talking about, so why don't you tell me as well?"  
  
"Why don't you go ask your nancy-boy of a brother?"  
  
"And why don't you just tell me what I need to know?" She was just starting to get angry now. Her eyes flashed with it when her hand when for her bag, which contained her stakes and holy water. She wouldn't hurt him though; she couldn't. Unfortunately, he seemed to know that too.   
  
"Ask nicely." He sounded like a parent reproaching their child. Her eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance and he laughed.  
  
"This isn't a time to laugh, Spike." Gracia decided to be honest. "If they're intent on killing Angel as much as they've implied, chances are you'll be right up the top of their hit list as well."  
  
His manner changed to indignance. "Hey, I can look after myself in a fight. I've done two Slayers in my time." He stopped when he realised she had said the last six words simultaneously with him.  
  
"I know. Read it." she said, gazing around briefly before looking back at him. "Come on, please. Just tell me."  
  
Why he did as she asked, he didn't know. But something in those brown eyes, something about her honesty and openess, made him tell her. And he wanted to kick himself for it.  
  
"There was a vampire leader once. Known to some as The Annoying One." He grinned at the memory of the nickname and the child-like leader's demise at his own hands. "Given name, however, was The Anointed One."  
  
"Of course!" Gracia sighed irratably, talking half to herself. "Why didn't I remember?"  
  
"The Watcher had you researching all those really fascinating books of prophecies?" Spike questioned sarcastically. Gracia shook her head, mouth set grimly.  
  
"No. Before...well, when I first lived, back in Galway, I was very religious. Everyone...mostly, was. We didn't have the answers to the workings of the world then so it all made sense. But anyway. It must have been in the Old Testament of the Bible, but somewhere there's a prophecy concerning the birth of Jesus. They call him the Anointed One." She gave a small, slightly humourless, laugh. "Obviously though, it was meant differently."   
  
He told her about the evil of the demon child, the way he had been risen and killed. And all throughout the story, she remained unfazed and rapt, listening so very carefully as if some detail should escape her hearing. Eventually, when Spike finished his story, she straightened up, pulling herself away from the gravestone, and adjusted the bag over her shoulder.  
  
"And now they want to bring him back," she said in a low voice, then frowned. "Why now, why after ten years or whatever? Why didn't they do it sooner?"  
  
Pushing away memories of Buffy, Spike shrugged, keeping his tone nonchalant and uninterested. "They wanted to make sure that there were no more Slayers in Sunnydale, I guess. Then you came along, obviously something they didn't expect."  
  
She shook her head, managing a small smile. "What an inconvenience."  
  
There was silence for a moment as he studied her and she him. Then she shrugged.  
  
"Ah, guess I'd better head back to the school. Even if Cecelia had to leave early 'cause of book orders or whatever, the others are there. I should tell them.Not like there's any fights to be had here." Gracia paused, chewing her lip briefly. "You wanna come with me?"   
  
Spike snorted. "As if, schoolgirl."  
  
Gracia grinned at him, laughing despite the fact that he had just insulted her. "See you, Spike." She began to move away with all the stealth of the Chosen One.  
  
Spike's blue eyes watched her leave, silently slightly troubled until he told himself to stop being so stupid. Brooding about the Slayer's safety was Angelus's problem.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
The lair of the sunken church had long ago been abandoned. Neither human nor demon- vampire or otherwise- had set foot within the place for years.  
  
And now it was swarming once more.  
  
Zachary stood on a wide platform-like ledge, a perverse grin of evil anticipation splitting his vampiric countenance, surveying over the activities of his large gang. Ambulo Mortuus stood nearby, seeming to listen and watch from beneath the hood, an air of cold disdain radiating from the figure within the cloak.  
  
"Old place hasn't changed a bit," he remarked, half to himself and half to Ambulo Mortuus. "It's that identical I can just see the Master strolling around, ugly old git that he was. But straight in and out, once we have our trinket we can all leave this place to the dust again."  
  
"This is no mere trinket, Zachary." Ambulo Mortuus replied sharply. "You underestimate the sheer power it conceals in each letter, let alone spell. This is one of the most powerful assets of dark Magick in this existence and many, many others."  
  
Zachary sneered. "You've been spending too much time with those books of yours. Tell me- will there be enough distraction for our leader's Resurrection to be carried out sucessfully?"  
  
"There will, Zachary, do not doubt that." The leading vampire could almost see a smirk under that hood, playing on the unknown face. "The spell that I completed before we came here to retrieve the book should provide enough worry to have the Slayer's friends worrying about someone other than her. She will come to you like a lamb to the slaughter and her friends will be eliminated."  
  
"And why are you doing this for us?" Zachary could not conceal his infinite curiosity. "Why would you, a human, offer to help us so that you could become a vampire?"  
  
Ambulo Mortuus held up a thin, feminine pale hand to cease the questioning. "Enough. You, yourself, was Sired by the Master. However disrespectfully you may speak of him now, you now that he was of a very old and powerful line. You should know of the thirst most hold for power. But to gain, you must also be willing to give, as long as you, too, advantage. I offer my services in the Anointed One's rightful rising because, not only do I recognise that he should be here to rule the Hellmouth, but also because I wish to be a vampire- one of the elite."  
  
Zachary sneered again. "Whatever you say, Ambulo Mortuus." He dragged out the witch's self-appointed name mockingly.  
  
"Zachary! Leader! We have found it!"  
  
The calling voice made the place fall silent and cut Zachary off at the beginning of another tirade of ridicule. The leader looked up, golden eyes glowing, and he jumped down from the ledge. He stalked quickly in the direction of the voice, vampires parting to allow him, and Ambulo Mortuus in his wake, through.  
  
The caller was a vampiress with a tightly bound knot of greasy dark hair high on her head. In her hands, she held what they had been looking for, and dropped to her knees as Zachary came closer, offering it up to him. He took it with a widening of his wicked grin and ignored her yellow eyes imploring him for some sort of reward- even a word of thanks. None came though.  
  
Cradling the book as though it were an infant, carefully, tenderly, he wiped the dust from its whorled leather cover and the metal letters emblazoned on it. He read them over and over eagerly.  
  
THE BOOK OF AMORA.  
  
For this was what held the key to the Anointed One's return.  
  
"Home we go!" he hissed delightedly. "To prepare for tomorrow!"  
  
As they left, he considered fleetingly if the Slayer was prepared for her imminent death.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
So sorry it took so long to get this up! I should be able to write more after my exams- I have, like, two weeks to go! Argh!  
  
Oh, and the thing about Jesus being referred to as the Anointed One in the Bible...that IS TRUE! I found it out in my R.S. lesson. Freaky!  
  
And please review! Thank you! 


	24. Capture.

A/N: OK, if you've seen my profile lately, you'd see why I haven't updated in a while. I had the chapter all written up and was about to upload when it got deleted! Dammit! Oh, and I was banned from uploading for a while cause I got into trouble over breaking uploading rules...I am REALLY sorry to everyone! Honest! I'll try to upload quicker to make up for it!  
  
Disclaimer: Lives in the previous chapters!  
  
Dedication: Lessee...all my wonderful reviewers, you guys are great for sticking by me. And my friend Rainbow Dreamer, who's just joined the site.  
  
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"I know it may soung crazy, but it's true!"  
  
Cecelia glared across the table at Gracia, eyes narrowed in dislike. Gracia sighed inwardly. This SO was not the time for Cecelia's hatred to get in the way of what was happening.  
  
"Preposterous," the icy blonde Watcher snapped. "The Anointed One has been dead for years!"  
  
"But it makes more sense than anything else!" Gracia blurted. From where she stood behind Cecelia, Keisha gave her an encouraging nod. "To distract me, they've done something to make people have accidents to distract me whilst they planned a Resurrection."  
  
"Nonsense! A vampire must leave a skeleton to be resurrected, and it is known for sure that the Anointed One did not!"  
  
"There must be some other way then!" Gracia half-pleaded hopelessly, sliding into a chair by the table, opposite the Watcher. "There's got to be a way..."  
  
"I have spent long years training as a Watcher. I know much more than you, and this is a basic fact made clear to all Watchers-in-training shortly after their training begins! I suggest you concentrate and stop trusting these lies fed to you by that murderous vampire you call a brother..."  
  
"That's enough!"  
  
Gracia was surprised, but not unplesantly so, to find that Keisha had jumped into the argument before she could reply. Keisha stormed around next to where Gracia sat, glaring in fury at the Watcher.  
  
"You just can't take it that Angel is a better person than you'll ever be!" she snapped. "You think you're so much better than him when you're not!"  
  
Keisha slowly came back to earth when she realised that the eyes of both Slayer and Watcher were on her, the eyes of the former quite round with astonishment and the eyes of the latter slits of anger. She felt her insides shrivel when she realised Gracia may have picked up on some underlying message about how much she liked Angel, but it was Cecelia who next spoke.  
  
"Surely you mean vampire." she hissed. "Because that's what he is- a brutal, souless, evil demon!"  
  
"He has a soul!" Gracia yelled.  
  
There was a deadly silence for a minute or so. 'Tense' was an understatement for the atmosphere. Gracia and Cecelia's eyes were locked in a silent battle, but eventually Cecelia looked away briefly, a strange expression on her face.  
  
"Enough of this. There are more important things to discuss." There seemed to be a bitter battle being fought behind Ccelia's face, evident in her steely eyes, and the girls exchanged surprised glances at this. Cecelia eventually sighed silently and continued.  
  
"Whilst your suspicions of a cult trying to ressurrect a long dead leader are stupid and ignorant, I have come across knowledge that there is indeed a vampire nest in the industrial area not far from here. The number of vampires does not exceed thirty, but given time and they will undoubtably multiply into a much more severe problem."  
  
Gracia nodded gravely. "I'll go tonight." She was excited at the prospect of a proper fight at last- the vampires had been a bit thin on the ground lately.  
  
"Leave here just before sunset and I believe you should be able to make it there just as they begin to awaken. Catching them disorientated means that you will stand a better chance in the fight. I'll give you instructions just before you leave to make sure that you don't forget them." Cecelia gave a slight, almost invisible nod to her Slayer. A sign of communication. Gracia managed a small, reluctant smile back.  
  
Keisha spoke next. "You want me and Luke to come with you as back up? Sending you into battle with thirty vampires seems pretty dangerous."  
  
Cecelia cut in. "No civilians will be involved in this battle! It's far too dangerous!"  
  
Gracia looked up at her and the smile became genuine, although apologetic. "Thanks, Keish, but Cecelia has a point. I really don't want you or Luke to get hurt in such a big battle. Patrol is very different. I'll probably just take Angel as back up. Spike too if I can find him and he wants to come."  
  
"No!" Cecelia barked. "The vampires are not coming. Do you really want two more opponents?" She sneered. "The other vampires may be quite interested to see them again."   
  
Everyone present knew that it meant that Angel and Spike stood a good chance of death if involved.  
  
"Fine." Gracia said with a sigh. "OK. No Angel or Spike. I promise."  
  
Cecelia merely stared at her for a moment longer, then turned her metallic eyes to Keisha. "You, girl. Go to your classes." To Gracia she added, "You must begin to train for tonight." With that, she swept off towards her office to gather some equipment.  
  
Keisha sighed. "She's probably right, you know. Even if Luke is covering up for us to the teachers, he'll wanna know what's up." She pulled her bag over from across the table and smiled at her friend. "We'll drop by later if possible, just before you leave. To wish you luck, not that you'll need it."  
  
Gracia suddenly stood up as Keisha crossed by her, grabbing her wrist lightly. Keisha looked around, eyebrows raised in silent question, and Gracia leaned forward after making sure the Watcher was still in the office.  
  
"Keisha, can you...just make sure Angel knows where I am, OK? Incase." Her voice was low, her eyes pleading.  
  
Keisha nodded. "Of course. I'll make sure we're here when Angel drops by. See you later."  
  
Gracia nodded her thanks and watched the petite girl leave. Then she turned to see Cecelia re-enter, none the wiser to the conversation and carrying black foam pads for a target practice exercise. Her face held the old familiar expression of scorn.  
  
"No let's see how bad your fighting skills have become." she sneered. Gracia sighed inwardly again.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Angel was sitting on the couch of his silent basement apartment, occupying the daylight hours with his favourite pastime- brooding.  
  
But this time, not about Gracia. Of course he worried for her, but with her supernatural skills, he knew she could hold her own in a fight. No, this time it was Keisha on his mind.  
  
Unfortunately, with the discovery of an immanent resurrection, he hadn't had the chance to ask further about any of her dreams. What worried him most was that she'd kept it all to herself. She hadn't told anyone: not Luke, not Gracia, not Cecelia.  
  
Not him.  
  
She had seemed to not want to bother anyone; like she considered everyone else's problems to be so much more important than hers. If only she knew that that wasn't how it was. That her problems were much more important than she realised.  
  
Maybe Willow and Tara could help, with all their knowledge. Despite the fact that he didn't have much information and that he didn't want to burden them with even more research, he found himselfpicking up his phone and dialling their number.  
  
The phone rang once, twice, thrice. Then there was a click and Willow's voice came onto the line.  
  
"Hi, Willow here. Sorry, but Tara and I are out at the moment, so if you leave your name, numb-"  
  
Angel put the phone down.  
  
There was only one other option- to get to the school as soon as possible to talk to her.  
  
Only a couple of hours to go...  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Gracia had been so impatient to leave for the fight that she had almost cheered when Cecelia gave her directions and sent her off. She had briefly encountered the twins on her way out of the school as they went to their post of awaiting Angel, and was wished good luck by both. Now, barely twenty minutes later, she crept noiselesssly through the industrial block.  
  
The factories stood in regimental rows with large spaces in between to allow trading lorries through. The old brick buildings in this area had all been abandoned for possibly five years or older, although their structures dated much further back. Each door was heavily padlocked, danger signs were hung randomly by the council, and some of the grimy windows were boarded up.  
  
All of Gracia's Slayer senses stood alert as she wandered from one alley to the next. She now realised that Cecelia's directions hadn't been that clear at all- she only knew that she was in the vaguely correct area. Every muscle in her body was tensed, ready to spring as she cast her gaze around. Then, as she reached about halfway up this particular alleyway, she paused and stared.  
  
The factory on her left- the one she stood a little closer to- was particularly rundown, with most of the windows blocked somehow and even a sort of wide balcony high up leading from what must have been a second storey door. It also had a door just ahead of her, set at the end of a shadowy porch, and from what she could see, it was very old and the paint was flaking off. But one thing was certain.   
  
There was no lock on the door.  
  
With a frown of caution, Gracia began to prowl silently towards the entrance, right hand pulling the long stake out of her jacket where it resided next to a phial of holy water in an inside pocket. She was hovering near the porch, just about to step in, listening hard...  
  
CRASH!!!  
  
Gracia whipped around suddenly, stake raised. The noise had definitely come from a set of overflowing trash cans opposite the door. She took a wary pace forward, then another, and another, and another...  
  
It was only then that the figure stepped stealthily from the shadows and swung the long iron bar down through the air in a deadly arc.  
  
The bar collided with the preoccupied Slayer's skull with a faint, dull clang. Gracia's eyes widened very slightly from the natural shock of the sudden impact, then her body crumpled to the ground. Her stake rolled from her loosened grip and away from her body. The iron bar was tossed aside in such a way that there was as little noise made as possible.  
  
As the last glimmers of daylight just began to fade on the horizon, the tall creature dragged the slender girl into the dark of the factory.  
  
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Ooh, cliffhanger! Sorry guys!  
  
And again, sorry about not updating sooner. Buffy Fan- thanks for ur very nice review. I'm flattered that u think this is one of the best written Buffy fics uve read. Oh, and yes, I always did intend to add Spike in. Come on, he's one of the (if not the) best Buffy characters! I'm a very big fan.  
  
So, now uve read, please review and next chapter up soon! 


	25. Trapped.

A/N: And because you're all so kind in your reviews, here's yet another chapter as I avoid the Jubilee TV on at the moment. Thank god Angel's starting on channel 4 on Saturday...;-) My life is complete! Lots of lovely TV...  
  
NOTE TO FANFREAK: Gracia hasn't had chance to tell Angel and Spike about the fight. She only found out about it that morning. Therefore, she got Keisha to tell them for her.  
  
Disclaimer: Not Joss, am I? Just a poor fanfiction writer with £1.50 and a set of borrowed Nightworld books. **On knees, begging** Take pity on me!  
  
Dedication: Everybody who's reviewed the last chapter and all the ones before that. Let's get me up to sixty reviews, shall we?  
  
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Luke sat with his feet kicked up on the table, watching with a little amusement as Keisha paced back and forth, wringing her hands slightly and chewing her lip. Eventually, she halted, and looked straight at him.  
  
"Luke!" she wailed. "Quit sitting there grinning and CARE for once!"  
  
He cocked an eyebrow but didn't loose his small smile. "You mean about Angel?"  
  
"Yes, I-" She stopped suddenly as she realised the trap and her brother smiled wider. "About Angel and Gracia." She approached Luke, lowering her voice so that the Watcher would not hear. "Gracia has to fight all these vampires. Angel hasn't shown. You don't think that's even a little bit of an omen?"  
  
"Keisha!" Luke groaned, voice also low. "The sun isn't even properly down yet! Angel just wants to play it safe, that's all."  
  
She sighed. "I guess. But still..."  
  
It was then that Cecelia stalked in rapidly from her office, ignoring the twins at first although they watched her come in, their discussion breaking up. Was it Luke's imagination, or were Cecelia's hard silver eyes a little...wild? Nervous, perhaps, apprehensive somehow. Then he mentally shook himself. It couldn't be anything.  
  
Then the blonde Watcher turned and glared at them both through her squarish glasses. Her voice was cold and commanding as she spoke.  
  
"You two, I see no reason for your being here. Leave."  
  
"Uh, why?" Keisha couldn't help but ask that with even a little of her dislike for Cecelia in her voice. "Technically, we're still permitted to be on campus for about another half hour. Principal Walker put it down in the rules at the end of last term, so we could all use the research facilities for our homework."  
  
Cecelia's eyes flashed. "I told you to leave," she said, voice as disdainful as ever. "You shall do as I say, and I have the power to make you do it."  
  
"We'll just ask the principal then." Luke replied. The Watcher's eyes flicked to his dirty trainers up on the table then to his face. She took in the pair of them, standing and sitting there, watching her calmly. She snorted, turned on her heel, and carried on with her business. When she disappeared into the far bookshelves, Keisha sat next to her brother, leant over to his ear and whispered.  
  
"Still, I think Angel should know as soon as possible where Gracia is. He worries, you know."  
  
Luke sighed and removed his feet from the table with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not going to get any peace, am I? Alright, I'll see if I can catch him before he gets to the school. I'll come back by proper darkness if he hasn't shown. You stay here."  
  
Keisha managed a smile as Luke picked up his jacket and went to leave. "Thanks." she whispered, ever cautious of the Watcher.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Angel came out of his apartment as soon as it was safe enough. He still kept to the darker areas to avoid possible burning from the very-nearly over sunset. His eyes were troubled as he quickened his pace. Something really wasn't right.  
  
Suddenly, about two blocks from the school, he stopped and turned just as something launched itself at his throat.  
  
He backhanded it away from himself, making it fall the pavement with a heavy thud. A vampire girl in game face, long hair wild as she picked herself up to join the other five approaching. They had managed to enclose Angel in a ring, each one armed with something. Two held metal bars, another three had knives, and one even had a small pistol.  
  
Angel felt his features rearranging into a vampiric countenance to match theirs. He drew out a stake from his coat pocket.  
  
"Show time," he snarled, as the first vampire came in for the attack.  
  
********************************************************************************  
  
Luke wandered down the steps of the high school, wondering mentally why he had done this. Whatever was going on, he now had even more reason to think something was up. The mere atmosphere in the library said that much.  
  
His footsteps fell quietly on the main walkway through the lawn, down some more steps and out by the road. He quickly looked right then left for approaching traffic and, finding none, he stepped out.  
  
He had reached the middle of the wide road when it happened.  
  
A large truck appeared as if from nowhere, heading straight towards him.  
  
From then on, it was just like in the movies.  
  
He heard the distant roar of wheels and slowly, like time was moving through thick tar, he turned to face the oncoming truck. Its headlights blinded him temporarily, and he threw an arm up instinctively to his eyes. Then he realised what it was and forced himself to move; made his legs begin to carry him rapidly across the road.  
  
Only it didn't happen that way.  
  
His legs wouldn't move; they were frozen. And the worst thing was, he wasn't making it happen. His muscles were fighting to get him out of the path of the lorry, fighting against some hidden force intent on keeping him there. He knew he could have gotten himself away in any other circumstances. But not now.  
  
Luke turned his turquoise eyes back to the lorry and knew, even though he was continually fighting to go one way or the other, that he was going to die. Only one thing went through his mind.  
  
I'm not ready for this.  
  
Then another thing happened.  
  
Eyes heavily affected by the bright lights, he could hardly see anything else. But from across the street where he had been heading, he heard a gasp and then a louder voice yelling out something he didn't understand. He could have sworn there was another light that shot from there. Then he knew that it was true.   
  
Because it hit him.  
  
The reaction was something like the lock on a door under heavy pressure being released suddenly. The opposing force fell away and Luke stumbled backwards so quickly that he tripped over his own feet, fell backwards and landed heavily sitting on the kerb.   
  
The truck roared straight on as though nothing had happened and disappeared around the corner. Luke watched it go dazedly, then turned his gaze to the two people rushing towards him. Two strangers.  
  
Now that his vision was gradually returning to normal, he could tell that the strangers were two women in their late twenties. One was a red head and the other was blonde, and both were pretty. The pair halted by him, and the redhead kneeled next to him.  
  
"Are...are you OK?" she stammered, shaken from witnessing it, checking him over for wounds of any type. "Are you hurt? Do you need to go anywhere?"  
  
Luke blinked, taken aback a little. "I'm...I'm fine." He realised that his breathing was still uneven and unusually fast, so he did him best to calm himself. Then he frowned at them. "Who are you?"  
  
The blonde spoke next. "My name's Tara and this is Willow. What's your name?"  
  
"Luke." He spoke a little warily as he stood up, watching as Willow followed suite. "What did you do back there when...you know. Was it magic or something?"  
  
The pair exchanged quick glances, then both looked back at him. It was only when he saw their nearly identical expressions of curious confusion that he realised that they could have been just innocent bystanders and not know anything about the world of evil that he had been oblivious to until recently. He sighed, pushing back some of his blonde hair.  
  
"Sorry," he said. Then he laughed humourlessly, glancing away. "I guess this was my turn then."  
  
When he looked back to the women, he saw something else in their eyes. Slow recognition. Realisation.   
  
"Do you know Gracia McCormack?" Willow inquired. Luke frowned a bit.  
  
"Yeah. I'm one of her best friends." Then he remembered something. "You're some friends of Angel, right?"  
  
"That's right." Willow said, smiling a bit now. "He asked us to help with...well all that's been happening, which I think you'd know all about." She lost the smile as she said that.  
  
"Sure. Hey, you'd better see Gracia's Watcher, Cecelia. Maybe you can convince her something's up. My sister Keisha's there as well." He gestured back at the school. They all began to walk up to the building.  
  
"She fell d-down the stairs, right?" Tara asked, somewhat nervous about the school. Even though technically it wasn't the same one as Willow had gone to, she still didn't feel at ease around it.   
  
Luke nodded. "Yeah. Gracia hurt her ankle, her sister Brianna got her wrist sliced open, and just generally a lot of bad stuff happened."  
  
Willow was lost in her thoughts as Luke led them through the school. It was just as if she was retracing her steps from high school to the library, back when Buffy was alive...  
  
"Here it is."  
  
Luke's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked up. He was pushing open the double doors to the library and walking through, so they followed. As the doors shut behind them, a small girl of Luke's age with red-brown hair and the same blue-green eyes looked up from where she sat at the main table. She got to her feet quickly and, after studying the newcomers curiously, looked questioningly at Luke as she approached.  
  
"Keisha, these are friends of Angel's. Willow and Tara. Willow and Tara, this is my sister Keisha."  
  
The girls exchanged quick greetings, then Keisha frowned slightly.   
  
"Are you alright? You look kind of pale."  
  
Luke rolled his eyes. "Let's just say I had too close an encounter with a freight truck. Willow and Tara here saved me with magic."  
  
"Actually, it was just Tara." Willow put in reluctantly. "I don't do most magic any more."  
  
Luke was going to continue explaining when a sharp voice cut through the atmosphere.  
  
"What on EARTH is going on here?"  
  
They all turned to see Cecelia descending the steps, face taut in an expression of furious displeasure as she surveyed the small gathering with cold eyes. She pursed her lips and scowled as she approached.  
  
Keisha decided to come in with the introductions. "Uh, Willow, Tara, this is Cecelia, Gracia's Watcher. Cecelia, these are friends of Angel's."   
  
Cecelia halted a few metres from the cluster, wearing an expression of prim distaste as she looked the women up and down, taking in every inch of their travel-wrinkled clothes and of their dishevelled hair. Willow tried out a smile and hesitantly held out a hand towards her.  
  
"Hi. We've done some research on..."  
  
"I suggest you leave immediately." Cecelia cut in icily, eyes narrowing. "I have a lot to do, but should you insist on wasting my time like this, my askance for you to leave may become much more violent." She scanned the people in front of her. "All of you." With that, she turned and began to walk away from them.  
  
The group erupted into disagreeing voices- protesting her decision. Willow was the first one to make much sense out of the babble of noise, following Cecelia by a few steps.  
  
"You can't just ignore this!" she almost shouted. The other three fell quiet, and Cecelia halted, back still turned. Willow didn't look shy or nervous now. Just angry and even a little scared. "There is some seriously bad magic being cast against Gracia, and if we can't break the spell, then it's very possible she'll get killed!"  
  
Everything went dead silent then. Keisha put a hand to her mouth in shock. The twins both stared at Willow, stunned at hearing it plainly. Cecelia turned around to face the annoyed ex-witch slowly, an odd expression etched onto her pale features. Luke and Keisha realised what it was with a simultaneous jolt.  
  
Emotion.  
  
"It is a Slayer's duty to be prepared to sacrifice her life in the battle against evil." Cecelia said, looking Willow straight in the eyes. Willow faltered just a tiny bit. Cecelia exhaled in something not unlike a small sigh, glanced away briefly, and then faced Willow again. "I do not wish any harm to befall Gracia, but what else can I do? I am expected, as her Watcher, to send her to her death if and when I have to. I don't know who or what has or could have cast some sort of magick on her."  
  
"Then please," Tara pleaded gently, stepping forward. "Let us cast a reverse spell now and she'll be OK."  
  
Cecelia nodded mutely, much to the twins' surprise. Eventually she took a deep breath and said, "Yes. Yes, please do. If I can't help her, at least you can."  
  
"I'm sure you can." Willow said. "If Gracia comes back before we complete the spell, this will be the first place she'll return, right?" She looked at the twins, who both nodded. "Maybe somebody should go to her now to help her, wherever she is."  
  
Cecelia was about to speak when Keisha cut in, "She went to some vampire nest, right Cecelia?"  
  
Cecelia shut her mouth and nodded, then added, "I'll go there now. You do the spell. I'll just get some weapons." She turned her back to them and began to walk almost shakily towards her office.  
  
"Right," Willow continued. "We'll need constant heat for the spell. With Tara helping to perform the spell, she won't be able to provide that, so..."  
  
"The science lab!" Luke said, with a sudden flash of genius. On Keisha's stunned look, he asked, "What? I can have intelligent thoughts sometimes, can't I?"  
  
"Where's the nearest one?" Tara asked.  
  
"On the second floor, it's not far."  
  
The women nodded and allowed Luke and Keisha to guide them out of the library, partway down the corridor, up a flight of stairs and along a second corridor. Willow's attention was being drawn away from the set task slightly by the uncanniness of setting foot in the school which she personally had helped to blow up, as well as a small feeling of being followed despite the silence of the place. Just paranoia, she thought. It's OK- once the counter-spell is performed, it'll pass.   
  
"Here it is," Keisha said, gesturing for them to enter as Luke opened the door. A small laugh escaped her lips. "If anyone had told me I'd voluntarily come back to the lab after school yesterday, I'd've called them mad."  
  
Tara smiled at them. "Well, we're here. Let's get started."  
  
They all began to move around the room, gathering equipment from the cupboards, setting it up on one of the middle benches. Within ten minutes, everything seemed ready, and they gathered around the apparatus. Tara nodded at Willow as she scattered and handful of herbs, then began to read aloud from a small old book in her hand.  
  
"Oh great goddess Isis, Mother of Life..."  
  
BAM!  
  
They all gasped and spun around rapidly, Tara accidently knocking her herbs askew as she did so. The door that they had entered through, previously open slightly, had slammed shut with a vengeance.   
  
Click!  
  
The click of metal upon metal was so faint that it was barely heard under their fast breathing- but it was unmistakeably there. Keisha was the first to move, and did so by weaving her way across to the door and took hold of the metal handle. She jiggled it gently at first, then more violently.  
  
Nothing.  
  
She turned, staring at them with wide, horrified eyes. "It's locked."  
  
"Stand back." Tara said, stepping forward. Keisha obeyed as the Wiccan began to chant in Latin. A glowing light appeared in her hands, then spread to the door handle. For almost a minute she conmtinued. Eventually, she ceased and looked at the others.  
  
"You're right, Keisha." She said, voice low but clearly worried as well. "But in more ways than one."  
  
The few seconds of silence that followed were broken by a dull, metallic clank. They all glanced in different directions, unsure of its location.  
  
"What the-" Luke began, unable to continue.  
  
Then a rushing noise filled their ears.   
  
It was faint at first, slow and almost languid. Then it grew steadily louder and faster, and with the noise came a smell. A strong, overpowering smell that made them all answer in one simultaneous whisper of despair and fear.  
  
"Gas."  
  
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I really do apologise for being cruel and leaving you on a cliffhanger, but forgive me on the account of my exams at the moment. Honestly, I finished the Geography one early today, so I spent the time mentally planning out the next chapter! My workload will decrease by Thursday night (a.k.a. the end of my exam week! Whoohoo!), and then I can start to spen a LOT more time on this writing. Hope you liked the chapter, and please review! 


	26. Waking Up Is Hard To Do.

A/N: OK, I'm trying to really work hard at this now! I swear! So, for all of you, another chapter! Oh yes! Feel honoured, lol. Hey, did anyone else have problems getting this site up just after the hardware problems? I did and so did my friends. Just wondering.  
  
Disclaimer: **Dancing around, hands over ears** Lalalalala! If I can't hear you, it's still legal!!!  
  
Dedication: Rainbow Dreamer for looking up all those Latin things for me for a fic in planning. You're the best sweetie!  
  
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For a moment, all the quartet could do was stand there, stunned. This couldn't be happening. But the sharp acrid stench of the gas was a constant reminder that it was happening- and all too fast.  
  
Suddenly, as if a lock had been released on him yet again, Luke ran towards the large windows on the wall opposite the door. Leaning over the side workbench and pushing away bottles of chemicals with a his free right hand, he used his left to try to unscrew the lock on the window nearest to him and to push it open. Nothing. Not even when he tried it with two hands. That was wrong. He knew for a fact that none of these locks were stiff.   
  
And yet none of them wanted to come free and let the window open.  
  
There was a rhythmetical pounding coming from somewhere behind him and to his right. Keisha was throwing her entire weight against the door again and again in a futile attempt to make it spring open.   
  
Willow and Tara were pounding and yelling. Nobody was there to come to their assistance, not even the caretaker. That was another strange factor that registered somewhere far away in a distant chamber of Luke's mind, and yet he paid it no attention.  
  
Because the gas was filling the room and polluting their air at an alarming rate and all he could think of doing was surviving. Breathing was already hard, and to do so without choking was becoming steadily impossible.  
  
Luke slammed his fists against the windows to try to push the windows open- nothing.  
  
From behind him, the thumps at the door were becoming uneven and weaker. Then they ceased all together.  
  
Luke spun around just in time to see his sister's eyes roll back up into her head and her body crumple to the tiled floor, leaning against the wall. As the smallest of the four, she had found it the hardest to breathe.  
  
"Keisha!" he yelled, forgetting the windows and trying to run to her aid even as Tara knelt at her side. He hadn't even gotten halfway across the room when he began to choke again.  
  
"Throw something...at the..." Willow wheezed, breaking into racking coughs. "At the window..."  
  
Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it before?  
  
Luke seized up a lab stool and hurled it crazily at the window he had been trying to open. His aim was poor and his throw was feeble, but the metal stool still smashed straight through the glass enough to leave a large jagged hole gaping there. Then he turned to help Tara carry Keisha between them to the window. Willow, who had leaned over to peer out of the window, suddenly turned to them looking grim.  
  
"We can't get out this way." she stated hopelessly. "It looks like a sheer drop, nothing we could climb down or anything."  
  
"At least get her to the window." Luke said. "She can't breath."  
  
Willow helped them to drag Keisha up to the broken glass when suddenly something smashed through.   
  
Not something. Someone.  
  
Someone tall and dark.  
  
Angel.  
  
"What happ-" he started, before his gaze fell on the unconcious Keisha. "Pass her to me."  
  
They didn't even question it as they struggled to hand her over. Angel pulled the girl up into his arms, then said, "There's a way you can get out. About six feet down and far to the right, there's a ledge you can probably jump down onto. It's not clearly visible at first. I'll get Keisha out now."  
  
They watched as, without even a moment's hesitation, the souled vampire leapt back out through the window and down two storeys onto the lawn below. He held Keisha out so that, as helanded hard and rolled slightly, she didn't get hurt. He laid her gently down, still supporting her head with his hand, and gestured for them to come down.  
  
Hand concealed by his jacket sleeve, Luke broke away some of the jagged glass projections still clinging to the window frame and leaned out to see better. There, he could see it now! A small ledge that appeared to have not much purpose at all, but for which he was grateful now. It wasn't much more 15 cm wide, barely enough to perch on, but he still climbed out through the ruined window and cautiously swung himself out onto it. Once there, he helped Willow and then Tara get their footing.   
  
From this position, he was all too aware of the drop to the lawn below. It wasn't high enough to kill, but could cause a trip to the hospital with a few broken bones and severe concussion. Hardly something he wanted, having just had a near collision with death with a demonic looking freight truck. Angel couldn't help them- all he could do was just sit there, cradling Keisha's head, and watch them.  
  
Not them. Tara.  
  
Then Luke realised. Tara was chanting again, her eyes closed in concentration. Even just as he realised it, Luke felt a tingling sensation spreading all over him, from head to toes. He closed his eyes momentarily...  
  
Then opened them again to find himself, Tara and Willow standing down on the lawn beside Angel and Keisha. Luke's eyes widened almost to the size of dinner plates as the realisation of the teleportation spell hit him.  
  
"Wish I could have done that at the start." Tara was muttering. "Something in there blocked my powers."  
  
Angel seemed as though he was going to reply, but just then Keisha stirred and broke into a fit of racking coughs. They patiently waited until they had ceased, and Keisha's eyes fluttered open to look at Angel bending over her.  
  
"Angel?" she murmured, then choked again. When she stopped, she rose into a sitting position, Angel's hand on the small of her back to steady her. She glanced around at all of them somewhat meekly.  
  
"Sorry." she said, pushing back some stray strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail.   
  
"It's OK." Angel said softly. Then, more seriously, he asked, "Have you seen any of this in a dream or premonition?"  
  
"What?" Luke's face was creased in a frown of confusion. "Sorry, I'm lost here. What do you mean, dream or premonition?"  
  
Keisha shook her head and looked up at the standing trio. It was now she had to explain. Never wasn't an option. She took a deep bretah.  
  
"I sometimes...well, lately, I've been having dreams that didn't make a lot of sense. Then they seemed come true, and I didn't know what was happening, so..."  
  
"Second Sight." Willow breathed. Everyone looked at her. She continued in her almost awed tone, "It's very rare. There aren't many records of it at all, and the ones that exist don't say a lot. But it should enable the person with it to have dreams of the future and to be able to communicate with ghosts. And it usually occurs in one or both of a set of twins."  
  
"That's what Buffy said." Keisha told them, not realising immediately what that would mean. Then Angel looked at her with such mixed emotion that she explained the answer to his unworded question.  
  
"Buffy's a ghost who's come to see me a few times. She said she was one of the Slayers before Gracia. And she-" Keisha's eyes widened suddenly. "Gracia! We have to find her! She went off to fight all these vampires, and...and..."  
  
"It's not safe." Luke finished her sentence. "We have to help her."  
  
"Where are they?" Angel asked as he stood up and helped the recovered Keisha to her feet.  
  
"An industrial area." Keisha answered. "It's probably the one a few blocks away, it's not far. Let's go now."  
  
The four set off quickly, Angel still slightly supporting Keisha as if he were scared she would suddenly collapse again. As they hurried down the street, somebody appeared in front of them. Somebody dressed in a black leather trench coat with bleach blonde hair.  
  
"Spike!" Willow exclaimed. It was a shock seeing him after so long. He blinked at the witches, then studied the entire group.  
  
"Well, what a turn out." he said, smirking. Then he realised who was missing. "Where's the Slayer?"  
  
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Pain.  
  
That was the first thing Gracia knew- an almost overwhelmingly dull ache that filled her skull but became sharper close to her left temple. Something had half encrusted itself from around there and mostway down her cheek.  
  
Her immediate thought was 'What happened?', followed quickly by 'Ouch!'. The only solution was to open her eyes.  
  
She soon found out that it was easier said than done. Her eyelids felt like two tonne sandbags each, but she still, after a little struggle, she managed to lift them very slowly to take in her surroundings.  
  
She appeared to be in one of the factories that she was close to investigating before she had been attacked. It was clear that she was in the main workspace- an enormous hall littered with broken crates and useless trash including shattered televisions and what appeared to be a mangled shopping trolley. A large staircase led up to a second balcony-type level with four or five doors leading off to separate offices. The only windows in the place, broken and mainly boarded, were at this level.  
  
Gracia herself was on a raised platform at one end, a hastily constructed yet strong wooden stage upon which sat a regal throne. It was gruesome though, looking as though the tortured grey substance it was made of was probably genuine human bones. She was seated not far from it, back against a blunt wooden post with her arms taken back behind her and her wrists tied firmly with some kind of rope. Her legs were out at a slightly curled angle to her left, also bound at the ankles. She tried to shift her wrists out, to wriggle her ankles free.  
  
Nothing. The ropes held sturdy and fast.  
  
"So, the Sleeping Beauty awakens at last."  
  
The voice was male- cold and mocking and hatefully anticipating. She turned her head towards it, earning herself a sharp jolt in her skull and her first glimpse of the slowly approaching man.  
  
He was both tall and broad, with jet black hair and thick, well-trained muscles. He was dressed in dark colours and didn't seem to be more in his early twenties. Not that that meant anything, of course- his face was twisted in the mask of a vampire. His lip curled back from his long razor fangs in an evil smirk and his glowing golden eyes swept over her in a freezing stare. She watched him straight back, even and forcibly calm. Neither said anything until he broke the silence, halting as he stood in front of her, looking down.  
  
"Allow me to introduce myself." he continued sarcastically. "My name is Zachary."  
  
"Gracia McCormick." she answered with equal derision, giving him a small nod. "To what do I owe this honour of you allowing me to visit?"  
  
He, Zachary, gave something close to a laugh. "You're really quite bold for such a little girl."  
  
"I'm sixteen, nearly seventeen. Not that that would mean much to a guy who probably saw the Bronze Age."  
  
He just gave that harsh sound nearly like a laugh again. "Not quite, Slayer. But what does it matter? Here we are, quibbling over little unimportant matters, when there's a much more pressing issue to attend to."  
  
He turned his back on her briefly to walk around the throne. As he stopped opposite her, his eyes glinted when they met hers. He slapped a hand onto the arm of the throne.  
  
"This," he explained. "Is the throne of our rightful leader, the Anointed One."  
  
"Oh, the Annoying One." Gracia put in. Even she didn't know why she was quoting Spike. It just came into her mind and although it probably put her in even more danger, the memory of those words made her feel somewhat calmer in herself. Another mystery was why.  
  
He said nothing in reply to that, just gave a small but poisonous hiss and carried on.  
  
"He rose from the blood of five in the days of the Master, an ancient vampire just clinging to his power as it was. When the Master was felled at the hands of the Slayer three before you, the Anointed One took his place. The year was 1997, and the good times had come.  
  
"Until an arrogant vampire, claiming to have eliminated two Slayers in his time, arrived in this town, sure he could get rid of the current one. He failed and killed the Anointed One to avoid rightful punishment."  
  
"Spike." Gracia said, voice low but steady. Zachary might have seemed unnerved by her knowledge for a split second, but regained his composure almost immediately.  
  
"Of course, I'm sure he's told you already. He always likes to ally himself with Slayers now to avoid his death. He is weak, powerless, useless. He ought be killed. He's almost as bad as the other freak of vampiric nature you have alligned yourself with."  
  
Gracia bit her tongue to prevent the tirade of infuriated words building in her throat. Zachary's evil smirk grew at her glare.  
  
"But what am I doing, talking of past events like this? It was way before your time- you must have been just a small child at the time. But soon ancient wrongs will be set right, and all in one simple ceremony."  
  
"Guess I'm taking part, right?" Gracia asked, eyes following Zachary's progress around the throne.  
  
"But of course, Slayer." He crouched beside her and reached out as if to chuck her under the chin. She leaned back from his touch, annoyed more than ever at the condescending tone in his voice.  
  
That annoyance was swept away by a freezing rush of fear as Zachary stood up and ended his speech.  
  
"We're going to exchange your life for that of the Anointed One."  
  
And that was when she saw the vampires moving out from the shadows.  
  
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More soon! Promise! Now that the holidays are almost here **random cheers and celebratory nosies** I should be able to devote most of my time to fanfiction! Whoohoo!  
  
Now please don't shy away from that cute little button below- click on it and review to tell me what you think! 


	27. Revelation.

A/N: Whoohoo! The summer holidays are here! Six weeks of writing, writing and writing! So expect more chapters! And I should really stop with the exclamation marks!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine apart from what is. **Shrugs** Go figure.  
  
Dedication: All my friends. You guys are great.  
  
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Gracia's stomach was a pit of leaden worry as she watched Zachary's vampire minions preparing the ritual. Some scattered magickal concoctions in apparantly symbolic patterns. Some stood guard near the doors, or prowled on the upper level. Some simply watched her with a strange light in their eyes, half fear and half hate.  
  
Zachary was pacing, obviously angry about something. The subject of his rage was soon revealed as he suddenly flung one of the broken TV sets right across the factory room to smash into the opposite wall.  
  
"The one night the ritual can be performed and Ambulo Mortuus is late!" he snarled furiously. "Where is that ungrateful little..." He broke off into a growl, seemingly too angry to speak. He seized the closest of his vampire minions by the throat and looked ready to chuck him after the television set, but settled for dumping him into a cowering heap at his feet after a moment's pause.  
  
"Get up, Rio." he sneered. "You're making a fool of yourself."   
  
Then Zachary's eyes fell on the watching Slayer, and his face split in a perverse grin.  
  
"Having fun, sweetheart?" he called mockingly. Most of the vampires sniggered.  
  
"I can see you don't entertain much." Gracia bit off sarcastically. "Your hospitality leaves a lot to be desired. And as for the décor..." She trailed off, shrugging as best she could when tied so tightly to the post.  
  
Zachary paced a little closer. "How strange it is," he mused aloud. "To think that so many of my ranks have fallen to what we thought was a powerful warrior. How strange to now see that that warrior is in fact a stupidly cocky teenager with a misplaced accent. Not at all scary."  
  
Gracia laughed coldly. "Give me an hour to prove you wrong."  
  
"But you won't live to see another hour." Zachary's teeth glimmered in the light of the few candles lit. "Because if Ambulo Mortuus does not appear soon, I'll perform the ritual myself. Why I accepted help from that idiot, I'll never know..."  
  
"Because," a voice like an Arctic wind spoke from behind him. "You wanted to raise the Anointed One, not botch it up and kill your little army in a stupidly suicidal blunder."  
  
Zachary turned, and his movement allowed Gracia to behold the newcomer, standing in the doorway. They appeared to be both tall and thin, although all but their thin pale hands was obscured by the long hooded robe that they wore. However, the aura of cold disdain that the person emitted was blatantly clear, even without hearing their voice.  
  
The door closed slowly behind the person, and Gracia realised that this must be Ambulo Mortuus...  
  
Her death.  
  
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"OK," Keisha began, trying to recall everything she could from her most recent dream. "It started off in what has to be a factory."  
  
The group were still hurrying towards the industrial block. The streets were pretty deserted, and somehow she was glad for that. However normal they may appear, a gang of two renegade vampires, two grown-up Wiccans, and two sixteen-year-old siblings was far from usual.  
  
"What did the factory look like?" Willow asked.  
  
Keisha frowned. "Old. Definitely disused. I think the vamps had probably been there a while, 'cause there was a whole lot of junk. Uh...the windows were kind of boarded up, and the second storey of it was this balconey type structure."  
  
"What happened?" Angel prompted. "Was anyone there?"  
  
"There was a fight...this whole big battle, it looked like, but I didn't see much. I think Willow and Tara were trying to put some spell against a person whose face I couldn't see. And Gracia was up against a really tall guy. But then it just sort of skipped to this scene on a balcony, where she was talking to the same person Willow and Tara tried to stop. Then the person moved and..." Keisha broke off and shrugged helplessly, glancing at Angel. "Then you woke me up."  
  
"Way to go Peaches." Spike muttered, taking a drag on another cigarette and tossing it over his shoulder. Angel glared at him.  
  
"Would you not call me that?" he growled. Spike grinned.  
  
"Sorry Peaches." Just one for the road, he thought. Angel controlled the urge to hit him. In finding Gracia, they needed all the help they could get.  
  
"Here it is." Luke announced, gesturing to the awaiting industrial block as they halted and thereby breaking up the possibilty of a fight between sire and grandchilde.  
  
"How do we find which one it is?" Tara queried, a note of hopeless despair creeping into her quiet voice.  
  
"Keisha said it was old, right?" Luke glanced at his twin, who nodded in reply. "Generally speaking, the old factories are round the other side. There's a quicker way around than walking straight through."  
  
"Let's go." Angel said, leading them off again. Suddenly, a thought struck Willow.  
  
"Angel, we don't have any weapons." she said.  
  
"We'll make do." he answered, unconciously shifting into feeding mode for a moment.  
  
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Gracia's face was turned up to the approaching cloaked figure, eyes wide and watchful. In the minutes between the dramatic entrance and the present, Gracia had begun to feel nauseous with her fear of this person.  
  
Ambulo Mortuus (Gracia had picked up that this was the person's assumed name) appeared to be filled with an evil sense of rejoice as they went about their work under Zachary's scrutinous gaze. Foul smelling sticks of incense were lit, various herbs and mixtures prepared and set out hurriedly for use. Currently, most (apart from the few assigned guards) of the cult were watching in full vampiric face as Ambulo Mortuus lit each of the thirteen thick black candles forming a ring around the Slayer and post.  
  
Then, Gracia's terror peaked and began to subside into a more levelheaded resolve.  
  
They can try to kill me, she thought, but they can't make me let them.  
  
Ambulo Mortuus stepped back from the ring briefly to reach for an ancient tome, instructing four nearby vamps in how to aid the ritual in clipped tones. Eventually, the shrouded one stepped back in and bent close to the captive, the cold voice in an unrecognisable language, then gave the English translation.  
  
"On this night of Darkness; on this night of Pow-"  
  
Gracia cut off the monologue by spitting straight at Ambulo Mortuus's hidden face.  
  
The witch jerked back, swiping the saliva away with one of those thin hands. Gracia caught sight of a brief flash of a pale cheek before Ambulo Mortuus suddenly lashed out, holding a silver dagger to the her throat.  
  
"Do not irk me, child." the person hissed. "Any more interruptions and I'll see that you don't have the pleasure of watching what your death will do."  
  
"Follow the ritual!" Zachary barked suddenly, storming forward. "Complete it perfectly, or both your heads will roll!"  
  
Almost reluctantly, Ambulo Mortuus pulled the blade from Gracia's throat and resumed the chanting. Gracia swallowed hard, glad to have that sharp pressure away from her throat as well as the burning sensation of the hidden stare, although her mind was racing. Those words...something had seemed overwhelmingly familiar about them...  
  
I have to know...  
  
Concentrating all the strength strength she could into one tight ball, she suddenly lifted up her bound legs and brought them round to slam into Ambulo Mortuus's side. Hard.  
  
The unexpected blow sent the crouching, shrouded stranger flying, stumbling up and past the ring of candles to fall heavily in a sitting position facing Gracia. The concealing hood slipped back, away from the face, and then Gracia knew.  
  
She gasped, too shocked to say anything.  
  
Because she saw the impossible- who Ambulo Mortuus really was.  
  
Hard, metallic-silver eyes glared narrowly at her from a pallid face. Icy blonde hair fell to the cloaked shoulders, and the expression of the person held more disdain, hatred and contempt than it ever had before.  
  
It was Cecelia.  
  
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I'm gonna be evil and leave you here for a while! But I swear the next chapter will be up soon, promise!  
  
Now please review by clicking on that sweet lil' button just below and typing in the available box. Thank you. 


	28. Call in The Cavalry.

A/N: So, I promised to update quickly after the last cliffhanger, and here it is! **Evil grin** Hope that was an intriguing enough twist for ya!  
  
Disclaimer: All Buffy stuff is property of Joss 'I'm evil and enjoy making everyone suffer' Whedon, whilst all the original stuff is mine!  
  
Dedication: To all those who run this website because if it weren't for them, we wouldn't be here now, would we?  
  
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Gracia couldn't control the weight of her breathing as she stared, completely stunned, at Cecelia picking herself angrily off of the floor. Her stomach held a feeling not unlike plunging down a cliff.  
  
Her Watcher. Her Watcher, her mentor, her teacher; Cecelia had planned to kill her for these vampires. To sacrifice her for evil.  
  
"Cecelia..." she began shakily. The vampires were also staring at the woman as though they'd never seen her face before- which, Gracia realised, they might not have done.  
  
"Oh, this is rich!" Zachary laughed. "All along, Ambulo Mortuus was the Watcher." Eyes glimmering evily at Cecelia, he added, "Well, you did indeed tell us you had access to the girl. How original!"  
  
Cecelia had re-entered the ring of candles, the swish of her cloaks causing the flames to flicker slightly. She bent close to Gracia again, preparing the book in her right hand and her silver dagger in her left.  
  
"Cecelia..." Gracia whispered hoarsely, shaking her head slightly. "Why?"  
  
Cecelia smirked icily. "What is the point in telling you, girl?" she spat. "Very soon, you won't remember anything...because you'll be dead."  
  
Gracia felt the hope drain out of her body.  
  
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"It's gonna be around here somewhere." Luke said.  
  
The alleyways between the factories were heavily shadowed from the tall buildings surrounding and occasionally lit by murky lamps. It took the four humans in the group great control not to trip up on the scattered trash cluttering up the route.  
  
"So the Watcher didn't give any directions?" Spike questioned.  
  
Keisha shook her head. "Not that we heard. Only Gracia was around at the time."  
  
Suddenly, Angel stopped dead, every sense alert and a worried expression crossing his face.  
  
"What is it Angel?" Willow asked. When he didn't reply, she prompted, "Angel?"  
  
"I smell something." His voice was low, but they all caught his words.  
  
"Yeah, well this whole place reeks." Spike said, as though he were stating the obvious to a small child.   
  
Something was obviously very wrong, because Angel didn't even acknowledge the insult. Instead, he carried on, ducking past Spike and Keisha to carry on in front alone. The others continued after him, struggling to keep pace with him. He lead them into a right turn into a wide causeway between two abandoned factories filled with more muck and rubbish. Angel went straight to the factory on the left, and bent down to pick up something lying near the doors, were it had been carelessly tossed aside.  
  
"Angel, what is it?" Keisha asked, beginning to worry. He turned to face them, face grim and probably even paler than usual. In his hands was a long metal pole with a smooth surface that reflected the nearest dim lamplight dully.  
  
"This was used as a weapon against Gracey."  
  
"How can you tell?" Tara asked. Keisha anticipated the reply even before Angel gave it, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.  
  
"I can smell her blood on it."  
  
"How'd you know if it was hers?" Spike's tone was disbelieving and slightly goading at best.  
  
Angel glared at his grandchilde. "Because I've tasted it before, alright?" He really didn't want to be discussing this, especially not with the bleached Cockney. "Trust me on this one."  
  
"But that means..." Willow trailed off, gesturing towards the factory doors. Luke glanced closely at them.  
  
"No locks." he observed.  
  
"Look." Keisha said grimly, pointing up at something. They all glanced to where she indicated and saw a wide kind of balcony, as well as several windows, each one blocked or boarded.  
  
"Seems like this is the party house." Angel said, moving towards a pile of ancient delivery crates to his left. In a series of swift, violent movements, he snapped of chunks of the wood and handed them to each person...just as Tara picked up a previously undiscovered object.  
  
"I've found something." That caught their attention and they turned to find her holding a long wooden stick, sharpened at one end. Luke's eyes widened as he realised, "That's Gracia's."  
  
Tara handed the stake to Angel, who knew he'd have to get it to Gracia as soon as he could. If she was still alive.  
  
Pushing that nasty idea from his head, he tried to maintain his cool as they all took their places behind him near the door.  
  
"On my count." he said, voice quiet. "Three...two..."  
  
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Help me, someone, anyone, please...  
  
Gracia watched Cecelia intoning in alternating Unknown Language and English passages. The Watcher had a glimmer of joyful malice in her eyes that Gracia knew was burned into her memory probably forever. Her wrists worked at the bindings, ignoring the sharp pains shooting through them at every movement.  
  
"Cecelia, you don't have to do this." she said, in a voice only the woman could hear. "Please, listen to me!"  
  
Cecelia's only response was a quick, flickering glance that gave Gracia an even clearer impression of the blazing certainty held within the silver depths of those eyes. If at all possible, Gracia's soul sagged lower.  
  
So she's decided what to then, Gracia thought, summoning as much confidence as she could. Guess I'll have to do what I have to do and ignore my feelings.  
  
She started on this resolution by quenching the rising disbelief and moving her wrists all the more within the ropes. Her ankles struggled as Cecelia began the latest English translation, a horrible finality to her tone.  
  
"I call upon the strength of those before me. I call upon the power of the greater forces of darkness. I call upon you to Ressurect your fallen son, to reinstate him to his rightful power! Restore your obsolete child, your agent of murderousness upon this plain of existence!"  
  
One thin hand shot out to push Gracia's head towards her left shoulder, exposing her neck in a movement so fast Gracia couldn't prevent it. The other hand came out towards the flesh just between her neck and her collarbone. As a small, sharp pain burned there suddenly, Gracia saw one of the instructed vampires picking up the first of the black candles. He brought it forward as Cecelia released her grip on Gracia, and Gracia saw the dagger in Cecelia's hand. The blade was glistening with the small amount of blood drawn from the dagger scratch, and Cecelia held it out, the dagger over the flickering flame...  
  
A drop of dark ruby slid to the very tip of the blade and dropped into the shallow melted around the wick.  
  
There was a loud hiss as the flame flared tall and black. The vampire, carrying the candle almost reverantly, took it over to the base of the throne and set it down.   
  
Gracia shut her eyes against the bright flash of light that followed.  
  
"One down," Zachary said gleefully. "Twelve to g-"  
  
BAM!  
  
Everybody turned to see six figures appearing in the doorway...just as the stationed guards dissolved into useless piles of ash. Two were in full vamp face. Two were teenagers, nervous but composed. Two were women in their late twenties, with looks that told of the many battles they'd been involved in before.  
  
Gracia's heart rose with hope as she recognised who they were...just as her strains finally paid off and part of the rope around her arms came loose.  
  
The vampire in front was tall with dark hair and feral yellow eyes. He looked straight at Zachary and the shrouded witch and said, simply, "Get the hell away from my sister."  
  
The battle had begun.  
  
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Alright! Another chapter up! Go me! Anyways, review please and tell me exactly what you think! Thank you! 


	29. Encounters of the Lethal Kind

A/N: OK, another chapter. Whoohoo! Just so you all know- I've been away for two weeks, so that explains the lack of any updates for about that time (end of August), but now I'm back I should be able to get some more up here. But don't think that I don't want you all to review, because I do! (Hey, that rhymed!) Lots of reviews encourage me to carry on.  
  
Disclaimer: Despite what you may think, I don't mind people being happy occasionally unlike some **coughJossWhedoncough**, so I think it's pretty clear that I don't own Buffy.  
  
Dedication: Everyone who has reviewed! FanFreak, please don't resort to the plastic shovel again! Please! **On knees, begging** Rainbow Dreamer, good to see you again! And thanks to Echoes of the Mind!  
  
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Everybody had frozen as the opposing six had broken the door down and entered. All of the vampire army were silent at Angel's words.  
  
Then Zachary threw back his head and laughed, cold and mocking. Eventually, he stopped, looking back down at the six with gold eyes narrowed in malice. He spoke just two words of instruction to his followers.  
  
"Kill them."  
  
At these words and the advancement of the vampires on her friends, Gracia felt all her strength and resolve come together in one blazing point. She twisted her arms out of the binds and, as Cecelia turned back to carry of the ritual, punched the pale Watcher around the face with all her might. Cecelia, not suspecting the blow, staggered back again with the force of it, which allowed Gracia the time she needed to flip herself crazily from the ring of candles and off of the makeshift stage. She landed unevenly, toppling over as she did so, and began to fumble with the tight knots of her leg binds.  
  
Half of her mind racing past freeing herself, Gracia shot quick, frequent looks at the fight ensuing. Spike, for one, seemed to be enjoying it, gladly taking on about five at once. Suddenly, she heard someone dropping down onto the floor beside her, and her head snapped round, ready to defend herself. Then she realised it wasn't a vampire. It was one of the strange women who had entered with her friends, a shy-looking blonde who gave her a quick, although worried, smile.  
  
"Who are you?" Gracia asked as the woman began to help wrench the knots apart until, thankfully, the ropes fell from her legs and they could both stand up.  
  
"My name's Tara and that's Willow over there." she rushed. "Quick, Angel has your stake."  
  
Gracia nodded her thanks quickly and ran towards where her brother was surrounded by an enclosing ring of vamps. The ground eaten up by her long, fast strides, it took mere seconds, and she managed to wrench to vamps back in her movements. She hit a third around the cheek in a backhand, and pushed a fourth away in a roundhouse kick.   
  
"Gracey!" Angel exclaimed. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll be OK." She replied, snatching up the stake he offered and dusting two of the vamps who had just picked themselves up. "You?"  
  
He nodded, battering back an enemy and plunging wood through its heart. He then frowned at the cut near her neck. "What did they do to you?"  
  
"It's alright, I'll be fine!" she answered. "I'm going for Zachary, see you later."  
  
Before he could stop her, she had run off admist the battle.  
  
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Chaos.  
  
Never in her life could Keisha have pictured this. Although it didn't look that different from any movie battle scene, the reailty of it made it much, much more brutal; much, much more horrendous. The stench of fear mingled with the heavy scent of the vampires' bloodlust and hung like a heavy cloud over the scene.  
  
The fright blazing in the pit of her stomach was mixed up with déjà vu. She'd definitely seen this before in her dream. She threw herself below a punch aimed at her, glancing quickly to check that Luke was still OK. He was. Fighting two vamps at the same time, but still alive. Putting all of her weight behind the splintering wood in her hands, she pushed it through the vamp's chest and he turned to dust.  
  
Suddenly, Keisha felt cold hands clamping over her- left arm right over her body with the hand holding her right upper arm. The person's right hand fastened itself onto her neck, forcing her head back...to look into hostile grey eyes.  
  
"Cece-" Keisha's voice was choked off as the Watcher's grasp tightened, and her eyes widened with terrible realisation as she noticed the sweeping robes the woman was dressed in. Obviously, she was the cloaked figure Keisha had seen.  
  
"It is time," Cecelia sneered, fingers closing ever more. "For you to see that civillian support will just get you into trouble, child."  
  
Grey dots were beginning to dance in front of Keisha's vision as she attempted to wriggle from Cecelia's hold. It was useless. The hard grip was crushing her windpipe, and the lack of oxygen was beginning to make her limbs feel too heavy to use.  
  
Not again! her mind screamed, furious at herself for being weak. I am not going to let this happen!  
  
Brain slowly starting to shut off, she clumsily swung her right arm around to whack Cecelia across the back of her knees with the makeshift stake she held. A small sound from Cecelia told her that she had been accurate, but it was too feeble to budge the woman.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
Over all the noise of battle, she couldn't hear the individual words, but something pulled Cecelia off of her and flung her straight across a good twenty metres of floor and into the wall. Keisha staggered slightly, gasping for air, and then spun around to see Willow and Tara, hands linked to combine their power, chanting as they advanced.   
  
Was it just the light, or did their eyes appear to be getting darker?  
  
Cecelia lifted her head, shook it slightly, then fixed her own darkening gaze on the approaching Wiccans. Keisha could make out the movement of her lips as Cecelia rose from the place where she had landed. Willow made a gesture at her without looking round, as if telling her to get out of the situation. Keisha backed up a little as told, knowing what she had to do.  
  
Stake as many vamps as she could so that Cecelia couldn't get any back up help.  
  
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Gracia arrived at the platform at the other end of the factory in mere seconds, coming to a halt five feet away from Zachary, who was standing on the raised area with an expression of annoyance as he watched the battle.  
  
"Didn't go to plan, huh?" she asked coldly. His head jerked around and a small, cruel smirk grew on his lips, revealing his predatory fangs.  
  
"My, my. You're a brave one, aren't you?" He chuckled in that frosty way of his. "Stupid, too."  
  
"Ah no, that's exactly where you're wrong." Gracia smiled too, a smile filled with a contempt just for him. "You see, Zachary, this girl in front of you is about to kill you."  
  
"You can talk the talk," he replied mockingly. "But you'll fall down when you try to fight the fight."  
  
Gracia shifted herself slightly into a ready stance. "Why don't you prove me wrong then?"  
  
He moved his head slowly. "OK then."  
  
She had a moment's warning before he lunged at her.  
  
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Luke shoved his stake towards the vampire girl in front of him. It slammed near the centre of her chest, and the lack of her turning to dust indicated that he hadn't pierced the heart. Twisting it at an angle, he avoided a blow and pushed it deeper.  
  
The vampire snarled and attempted a final swipe at his face. But she dissolved just as her hand was about to make impact with his cheek, and so he was safe.  
  
Breathing hard, he turned to look for more vampires and for a check-up on how his friends were doing. They all seemed fine, still able to hold their own, although Luke felt sure that Spike was probably enjoying this fight more than was healthy. Oh well. Then he caught sight of Willow and Tara...against Cecelia.  
  
Although they were combining their powers, it was obvious that Willow and Tara were not having a good time against the Watcher-turned-traitor. Luke could sense the immense power charging the air nearby, and somehow he knew that the Wiccans on their side couldn't hold it up for much longer. Their faces were beginning to show expressions of exhausted worry, although they did their best to hide it securely with determination and resolve.   
  
Then Luke had a sudden idea.  
  
He knew he had to break Cecelia's concentration somehow. There was enough junk littering this place, and near him was a mangled old shopping trolley, probably stolen from some nearby supermarket. But that wasn't important.  
  
He quickly grasped the handle bar of it and gave it an almighty shove in the Watcher's direction. Even on its warped wheels, even over the rough and pitted floor, it picked up a good speed. And Cecelia certainly wasn't expecting it to crash into her and knock her to the ground, breaking her concentration and allowing Willow and Tara's joint spell to smash her against the wall again. The witches looked at him, grinning. He was about smile back, but it was then that the vampires grabbed them.  
  
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A moment was all she needed.  
  
As Zachary flew towards her, Gracia's Slayer instincts kicked in and made her dive into a neat roll which led her back up onto her feet. Zachary regained his balance just enough to whirl around and face her- which was just what she needed, as her punch fell right on the target of his face. In barely a split second, she knocked his head back with a roundhouse kick. Zachary growled deep in his throat.  
  
"Play time's over, girlie." he snarled.  
  
Gracia barely knew what she was doing as she allowed the part deep in her that was the Slayer control her movements. Punch, kick, punch, punch, kick. Knocking Zachary's blows off course and hurting him all she could. Weakening him for the kill. She felt more as though she were spectating, watching herself strike out and fall back, still clutching her stake.  
  
Crack. Zachary's nose broke, spurting a fountain of scarlet blood over his face.  
  
Thud. He struck her with a crucifying blow to the stomach, knocking her to the ground.  
  
Slam. She ignored the screaming of her pained stomach muscles and kicked out, making him stumble back and giving her enough time to rise.  
  
OK, she thought as she winced at the ache in her belly. Ignore it. You heal quicker now you're the Slayer.  
  
It was true. The soreness had already begun to subside a little, and she felt strong enough to successfully block the vampire's blows. She proved it as well. They followed each other in a dance of battle, a dance that would leave one dead. Gracia shoved the throne of the Anointed One at Zachary; he dodged and lunged for her again.  
  
Then the crash sounded.   
  
For just a moment, Gracia let her concentration slip enough to glance behind Zachary at the battle still going on. Cecelia had been slammed into the wall by some form of magick, performed by the two strange newcomers who called themselves Tara and Willow.  
  
But a moment was long enough. It was fatal.  
  
Because a moment was all it took for Zachary to grab her.  
  
He had pulled her close to him, his grip crushingly strong. He grinned at her in a sneering fashion, demon visage even more hideous under all that blood. His yellow eyes shone with wicked joy, and when he spoke, his voice was heavily drenched in a sickeningly patronizing tone. As though he were talking to a child.  
  
"Say night night, Slayer."  
  
Then he dipped his fangs towards her throat.  
  
Suddenly, he roared in a pained confusion as Gracia brought her arm up and round to plunge her stake right through his heart from his back.  
  
Zachary fell to his knees in front of her as she pulled her stake out of his sturdy flesh, clutching at his chest. He glared up at her with more hatred, anger, and disgust than she thought would have been possible. Then he began to crumble, from his feet upwards. A slightly alarmed light flickered through his eyes.  
  
"You little bi-"  
  
Then he was dust.  
  
Gracia's immediate reaction was to check her friends. Yes, all alive. All fine, it seemed. The enemy was rapidly diminishing at their hands. A grin slowly spread over Gracia's face, only to disappear as her gaze continued to travel.  
  
Cecelia wasn't there.  
  
The exact spot where the Watcher had fallen was empty apart from the discarded trash. A small gasp caught in her throat and she ran towards the place with all her might, flinging aside odds and ends of rubbish incase Cecelia was underneath them. Something may have fallen on her. She may be hiding. But Gracia knew she was fooling herself.   
  
She swung around and glanced frantically around, incase she had missed her by accident. Nothing. Nothing at all. When something unexpectedly caught her eye from the top level.  
  
A swirl of black robes disappearing behind an office door.  
  
Cecelia.  
  
It had to be. Just had to. And Gracia knew that she had to follow her. It went against everything, every feeling in her body right now, just to let her go freely. To escape. But then...  
  
Could she leave her friends to battle alone?  
  
Then she looked closely at the scene, and what she saw made her smile inwardly.  
  
Her brother, Angel, fighting for her, for all of them. Luke and Keisha, now fighting as a duo, working together, bravery obvious. The two women Willow and Tara forming an unstoppable team with their magick, fighting back vamps, helping even though they didn't know her. Even Spike, revelling in the fight, was battling for them and her.  
  
They would be alright. She could feel it; she knew it.  
  
Without another consideration, Gracia charged towards the stairs leading to the second level, hot in pursuit of her double-crossing Watcher.  
  
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Phew, that drained me. Hope you liked it cause it took me ages! Feel honoured! OK, now please review and wait for the next chapter (apologies for the wait for this one). I'm off to work on my Harry Potter one now (yeah, shameless plugging, so sue me!). Bye! 


	30. Confrontations

A/N: Phew! I'm really gonna kill whoever invented homework. You would not believe the amount of work I had! Hence, no updates...until now! Lol. :-D  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, nyah! (Apart from what is, but we went through this already!).  
  
Dedication: To Milly Dowler- rest in peace.  
  
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Gracia raced out onto the broad balcony, skidding to a halt. Her dark eyes were riveted on Cecelia. Cecelia was standing completely still by the battlements, staring silently ahead of her. This indifference only served to increase the young Slayer's sense of furious betrayal.  
  
"You..." She shook her head. She still couldn't understand.  
  
Slowly, Cecelia turned, her sweeping robes brushing the balcony floor. Her eyes were cold and scornful, but she wasn't the Watcher any more.  
  
She was the traitor.  
  
"Don't start sentences you have no end for." Cecelia snapped. "You should be down there battling with your brother, and friends, and boyfriend." Each category was spat out as though they were bitter.  
  
Gracia forced a deadly calm to veil her. "You were one of them. I had to come after you." Then she realised exactly what Cecelia had said. "Boyfriend?"  
  
"That blonde vampire you all call Spike." She studied the confusion on the girl's face haughtily. "Oh, don't act so surprised." she retorted. "I can tell you think highly of him just by the way you look at him, by the way you act around him. You are a disgrace."  
  
Gracia might have blushed had she not been so angry.  
  
"And you're not? You signed a pact with vamps to get me and the others killed! And you were supposed to be helping me!"  
  
Cecelia's eyes flickered away momentarily before looking back at her. Venom sharpened her voice until it was as keen as the dagger blade she had held to Gracia's throat earlier. "I knew you were too weak to survive without any help. Couldn't stand on your own two feet. Incompentent, immature idiot."  
  
"How dare you?" Gracia hissed. "You're not exactly picture perfect. You think you're so great, but you're not. You're the nothing. You're pathetic."  
  
She wasn't prepared for the Watcher's next move. One of those pale hands lashed out and slapped her viciously across her left cheek. Gracia reeled back with a shocked gasp, clutching at the pained flesh. Cecelia clenched her fists.  
  
"Never, NEVER, call me that!" she growled. "You don't know what I've been through! You don't know what it's like to be dying of stomach cancer!"  
  
There was silence for a long, long time, apart from the faraway sounds of battle, as this sank in. She gaped at her in disbelief. Cecelia smiled bitterly, the first real smile Gracia had ever seen on her pale face.  
  
"You...you're what?" she eventually managed to stutter, still holding her stinging cheek.  
  
Cecelia laughed, high and cold. "For once, you're silent. What, didn't the Almighty Slayer realise that I was dying?"  
  
Gracia was still confused, shocked, startled. "What? But...I don't understand...how?"  
  
Cecelia's smile became a vicious smirk. "Shut up and I'll tell you a little story."  
  
And so Gracia stood in silence on the balcony and listened.  
  
"My whole family have always been Watchers. My parents, my grandparents, my great-grandparents...you get the idea. I was to be the next, my whole life planned out for me whilst I was still developing in my mother's womb. I was never a child in their eyes. I was the family's honour, I had to uphold it.They never loved me.  
  
"When I was three, my mother contracted cancer of the stomach and died. Nobody mourned her passing or ever spoke of her. She, to me, was merely the stern-looking woman glaring down from the family portrait above the fireplace.  
  
"My father was distant, too concerned with his work to notice a daughter. On the occasions he did notice me, it was to criticize and reprimand. Eventually, when I was sixteen, he left London to train a Slayer in New Zealand, and I saw nothing of him until I was twenty-one. A week after his return, he was killed in a battle against some demons. This gave me the escape I needed.  
  
"I left the Watcher's Council, for whom I was by this time working for, and travelled the world to learn about my real interest- magick. Good and bad. But I soon discovered that if you truly wish to succeed in anything, evil is the only path."  
  
Gracia shook her head. "Cecelia..."  
  
"Shut up!" the woman snapped. "Don't interrupt!  
  
"This continued for several years. All the while my strength increased until one day I began to feel...strange. Tired. Sick. I had never known such feelings until then, but for months I tried to explain them away. Eventually, I went to see a doctor and they told me plainly. I had stomach cancer like my mother but it was too late to cure. At twenty-nine, I was told I would die of some mere illness. Not exactly the glorious end I had planned, wasting away alone in some hospital bed. There was just one solution to my problem.  
  
"I returned to the Watcher's Council in London, using my powers to disguise and ease my condition. After explaining an excuse for me disappearance those years ago and almost begging, I was allowed back. I don't deny that IA used a few little tricks to gain my will, but they aren't important. The fact remains that I was restored to my former position without much question. I worked hard- kept my head down. Nobody knew the extent of my powers or of my increasing illness.  
  
"A couple of years had passed when the next Slayer was called in Belfast. You. I used my magicks on the minds of those fools at the head of the Council to ensure that I was Chosen as your Watcher. Because I had heard of Zachary and your parents' thoughts to leave Ireland."  
  
Gracia's eyes narrowed slightly but never left Cecelia's. "but what difference would it make? I had a Watcher, first of all, right at the beginning."  
  
"A temporary one to instruct you in the basics." Cecelia sneered dismissively. "he left as soon as he was sure you could cope, which was just as your family's move was finalised."  
  
Gracia knew she was right but didn't want to admit it. "So why was there so much trouble about you becoming my Watcher?"  
  
"At my age, I was younger by far than most Watchers have ever been. But simply spells on their minds told them that my years of absence accounted for research and first-hand experience, and so I was stationed here shortly after you moved in. But I came before it was required of me to do so so that I could seek out and associate myself with these vampires you have battled today.  
  
"I hid my identity, calling myself by a name of power. Ambulo Mortuus, as you heard earlier. I continued to mask my cancer by magick and luckily the vampires seemed to not notice. Usually, they'd smell the death on me, the ever increasing power of it, but not this time.  
  
"Zachary reluctantly accepted my help in the Resurrection because his desire to raise the Anointed One was so great. He may have been proud, but he was no fool. He knew he needed my help to achieve what he wanted, and my price for aiding him was relatively small."  
  
"What did you ask for?" Gracia queried, voice a whisper of dread.  
  
Cecelia straightened herself a little. "I asked to become one of them. A vampire."  
  
Gracia couldn't stifle the sound that escaped her upon these words, a shocked sound almost like a sob. Cecelia was obviously dismissive of such emotion and looked her up and down mockingly.  
  
"Oh, don't be so immature!" she snapped nastily.  
  
"But..." The impossibility of it all weighed heavily on her soul. "But if you became a vampire, you'd be dead anyway. Don't you understand that?"  
  
"Of course I do!" Had she been a normal person, perhaps her tone may have been desperate. But as it was, it remained hostile and cold. "But tell me, what would you choose? To die or live on in whatever manner possible?"  
  
Gracia stood to her full height, her face serious and showing how certain she was of her answer.  
  
"I would die a thousand deaths sooner than become a vampire."  
  
Cecelia did something unexpected then.  
  
She laughed.   
  
It was longer and worse than the last, a hard, stony sound that made a shudder run up Gracia's spine. The accompanying words were just as harsh.  
  
"Well, what else could I expect from someone who has had a life as easy as yours? When I cast those spells to harm your family and those worthless associates of yours, all you could think about was them and the comfortable existence you shared. You were never scorned and hated by them. You never faced a crisis."  
  
With a strangely stunned shock, Gracia realised that there was a note of bitter jealousy in the woman's voice. But she pushed it aside as her defensiveness rose.  
  
"I haven't always had it 'easy'. I was left on the streets as a baby! I lived in a children's home until I was five!" Gracia shot back angrily. "And even now I have all my family and friends, I find I've been Chosen as a vampire Slayer! That's not easy, either!"  
  
Cecelia sneered. "Oh, aren't you such a martyr! I guess you're fortunate that your own stupidness will kill you long before you endure as long as I have." Her eyes slid away at this point, just briefly, towards the hard ground below. Then she spoke once more, very slowly and with more coldness than ever before.  
  
"Thirty-three years of my existence is too long." she said. "It is about time I ended it all."  
  
Gracia always wondered afterwards why she didn't understand those words until the woman moved suddenly. She cried out her name in horror.  
  
"Cecelia!"  
  
There was a thump, then only the sound of her heart pounding in her chest, blood roaring around her skull.  
  
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The last vampire was dust.  
  
Apart from a few more serious cuts, everybody seemed fine. None of the injuries were that major, Angel decided, nothing a quick first aid kit couldn't solve. Luke was walking with a bit of a limp, but seemed to have decided it was unimportant. Angel made a speedy count up, then froze.  
  
Gracia wasn't there.  
  
"Where's Gracey?" he asked, panic beginning to seep through him. "Has anyone seen her?"  
  
They all stared at him, faces slowly showing a share in his emotion.  
  
"I saw her stake Zachary," Willow said, biting her lip. "He didn't harm her."  
  
"And then?" he questioned.  
  
She lowered her eyes. "I was trying to fight a vampire off me."  
  
"I know where she is."  
  
They all turned to see Spike sidling up, calmly wiping his bleeding nose on the sleeve of his duster. He stared back at them nonchalantly as he searched his pockets for a cigarette. A few moments passed until Angel roughly prompted, "Where?"  
  
Spike smirked and said nothing, lighting up an uncovered smoke and taking a deep drag.  
  
Seeing that Angel was very likely to lunge at his grandchilde to stake him any second, Willow intervened, "Spike, tell us, it's serious!"  
  
He rolled his eyes and tossed the cigarette aside. "Her Watcher went upstairs, so it follows that the Slayer went after her." He gave them a look as if to coin a popular Sunnydale phrase and add, "Duh."  
  
Angel didn't hesitate in heading to and up the rickety stairs at breakneck speed, the twins and Wiccas following closely. Spike hesitated, then rolled his eyes again and set off after them.  
  
Angel was the first through the abandoned office and out onto the wide balcony. For a desperate moment, he couldn't find her, until...until his eyes were drawn to a dark shape near the floor of the balcony.  
  
Gracia was huddled against the railings, arms tightly wrapped around knees drawn up so high that of her adverted face, only her eyes could be seen. Her wide, staring eyes set in a face that was pale and blank, which she turned up towards them at the sound of her name.  
  
"Angel?" she whispered. "Guys?"  
  
"Where's Cecelia?" Angel asked, offering her a ahnd to help herself up.  
  
Uncurling slowly, Gracia gave the quickest of glances over her shoulder and swallowed hard. "She...she...oh god, she..."  
  
Angel peered briefly over the railings to where the Watcher's broken body lay in a hideously contorted position on the cold earth far below, eyes emptily staring skyward. She was too obviously dead.  
  
Gracia hauled herself up with Angel's help, wrapping her arms around herself. His gaze snapped round to her immediately.  
  
"You're shivering."  
  
"I'm fine." she assured him, sounding anything but convinced by her own words.   
  
Saying nothing back about that, angel took off his coat and put it over her shoulders, his arm also around them to support her.  
  
"Let's go." His voice was plain and tired, reflecting all of their emotions.  
  
And so the seven left, the battle won but no victorious feelings except relief within them.  
  
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EPILOGUE ON THE WAY! I'll start typing it up soon. As for now, please review and tell me what you think! Thanks! 


	31. Epilogue: Graveside

A/N: STAY TUNED FOR THE IMPORTANT MESSAGE AT THE END!!  
  
Disclaimer: OK, it's been 31 chapters, and you STILL don't know??!!  
  
Dedication: For everybody who reviewed this and encouraged me to carry it on, even when the threats included red plastic shovels (mentioning no names, **coughFanFreakcough**)! You guys are the best, and I hope you've enjoyed this fic!  
  
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The figure stood in the shadows, slowly taking a drag on a cigarette as he watched the girl bend to lay a small boquet on the freshly dug earth of the grave.  
  
Gracia gradually straightened and took a step back so she stood next to Angel, both silently reading the few words on the simple gravestone.  
  
CECELIA REES. 1975-2008.  
  
After a few moments, Gracia spoke.  
  
"It's weird. I don't hate her."  
  
Angel glanced sideways at her, and, sensing this, she elaborated.  
  
"I mean, I know I should. She tried to kill me; she WANTED to kill me. She wanted to hurt you all. But...I don't hate her." Gracia looked at him questioningly. "I just feel sorry for her."  
  
"Nobody deserves to have a bad life." Angel replied, remembering what Gracia had told him about the confrontation. "But you have to remember that so many people do- it can't be helped- and yet they try to do something good with it. Cecelia didn't."  
  
"I think she wanted me to hate her." Gracia glanced at the white roses she had lain on the grave, the only tribute, and recalled the lonely funeral held earlier that day, in the hours of light. Apart from herself and the vicar conducting the ceremony, there had only been Principal Walker and two or three other teachers. "She didn't want anyone's pity."  
  
"Some people are like that." her brother observed. "They don't want anyone's help either."  
  
He sounded so knowing that Gracia briefly wondered if he was talking from personal experience.  
  
"Do you know what she called herself?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head no. "What?"  
  
"Ambulo Mortuus." Gracia shook her head, puzzled. "Although I don't know why."  
  
"Walking Death," Angel mused aloud, almost offhandedly. At Gracia's look, he added, "It's Latin."  
  
Gracia felt a tiny, smile of something almost like disbelief creep onto her lips. "I thought that your schoolmaster back in Galway called you, 'the most tiresome and insolent boy I have ever had the displeasure of dealing with'."  
  
Angel shrugged. "People change, I guess."  
  
Gracia's smile faded. She hesitated, then continued, "She was right about one thing though."  
  
"What was that?" came the wary reply.  
  
She met his gaze evenly. "I am weak."  
  
Shocked, he took hold of her arms. "No, you are not! Gracey, you're not weak at all!"  
  
Gracia shrugged slightly. "The way I acted after she jumped...I bet none of the other Slayers you've known would have just sat there."  
  
"They may have. Slayers have emotions as well. They are people too." he told her, remembering how scared the teenage Buffy could get, sometimes nearing hysterical. "You've only been the Slayer three months then this happens. It's OK that you felt like you did. Even later on...you'd still feel the same."  
  
"Really?" she looked slightly like a child then, wide eyes raised to him. He smiled a little.  
  
"Sure." He drew her into a comforting hug.  
  
"You know something else?" she asked as they broke apart. "I'm not sure I can trust the Watcher's Council any more. It wasn't their fault, what happened, but if they can let something like this get past them, then I don't think I can totally put my life in their hands."  
  
"You need a Watcher that's a friend as well as a mentor." he stated, wondering... "We'll make sure you do. And you have all of us to help you."  
  
"Yeah." She grinned suddenly, considering all of the new friends and acquaintances she'd made since coming to Sunnydale. "Well, at least no one can call my life boring and ordinary."  
  
He gave a small laugh. "What do you say we head over to the Bronze and meet up with Keisha and Luke?"  
  
"Sounds good to me." she chirped, laughing as well.  
  
They turned from the grave of Cecelia Rees and set off. After a moment, Gracia looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Spike, standing alone in the shadows, before he retreated back and away.  
  
Side by side, Gracia the Vampire Slayer and her vampire brother Angel walked away into the night.  
  
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THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL!!! Expect the first chapter up in a few weeks or so. The title is...something you'll find out when the fic gets uploaded. ;-D Lol.  
  
Anyways, thanks for reading this and please review! Tell me what you think of plots and characters- too predictable or alright or what? I really am interested to see what you think of this story.  
  
ALSO!!! Who should now be Gracia's Watcher? A new character or...someone else? What do you want? Review and let me know.  
  
Thanks once more, and keep checking for the sequel!  
  
-Shadowz. 


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